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,00 



GREAT SENATORS 



OF THE 



UNITED STATES FORTY YEARS AGO, 

(l848 AND 1849.) 



WITH 



PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS AND DELINEATIONS 

OF 

CALHOUN. BENTON, CLAY, WEBSTER, 

General Houston, Jefferson Davis, 

AND OTHER 

DISTINGUISHED STATESMEN OF THAT PERIOD. 






OLIVER DYER. 



OCT 281889 »i 



NEW YORK: 

ROBERT I30Mrs[H;R'S SONS, 

Riiblistiers. 



•^1 



II 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, 

By ROBERT BONNER"S SONS, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 

{All Bights Eeserved.) 



PRESS OF 

THE NEW YORK LEDGER. 

NEW YORK. 



THE AUTHOR S PREFACE, 



WHICH II K WOULD LIKK TO HAVE READ. 



My main jmrposu in writing this book was 
to tell some interesting things (which I stippose 
nobody else can tell) abont distinguished states- 
men who came tinder my personal observation 
when I was a reporter in the United States 
Senate, more than forty years ago, and of 
whose characters I have made particular study. 

For tlie benefit of persons who are not 
familiar with the iniblic affairs and public men 
of the past, I have found it expedient, in telling 
those tilings which are only within my own 
personal knowledge, to relate other things 
which are within the information of every 
student of our history ; and the well-informed 
critic may think that in some cases I have been 
too particular in relating what is so familiar to 

[31 



4 PREFACE. 

him, he supposes everybody must be acquainted 
with it. But I have had experiences in lectur- 
ing during the last twenty years on the subjects 
discussed in this book, which teach me that in 
writing for the people at large, one cannot be 
too particular or too plain, nor too repetitive as 
to names and dates. As an indication of the 
correctness of my views on this point, I will 
mention that a few years ago I lectured on Cal- 
houn, Benton, Clay and Webster in a neighboring 
city, and the next day, one of the reporters who 
were present, informed the readers of the paper 
by which he was employed that '^ Calhoun was 
a forgotten member of Congress from Missouri," 
and that '^ Benton was a half -civilized old 
buffer from the hill country of North Carolina." 
Wherever I have lectured on the subjects set 
forth in this voluiue it has occasioned surprise 
that I (an abolitionist so long as slavery existed, 
and a Eepublican who quadriennially put on 
the bloody-shirt as long as that ensanguined 
underwear was in political vogue) should 
speak so kindly, and in some respects eulogisti- 
cally, of John C. Calhoun and Jefferson Davis. 
As to that, I will only say that I spoke of those 



PREFACE. 5 

gentlemen in my lectures, and have written of 
them in this hook, as I found them ; and it is 
pleasant to rememher that wherever I thus 
spoke of them in my lectures, my remarks 
were generously applauded. 

In the first chapter of this work I have 
given a detailed account of the movement by 
which Henry Clay was defeated and Geneial 
Taylor nominated in the Whig National Con- 
vention of 18-1:8, and of the subsequent political 
strategy and management which led to Taylor's 
election ; because the details of the movement 
are interesting and instructive, and (until now) 
have never been made known. I supposed and 
hoped that Thurlow Weed would give a full 
account of that movement in his autobiography ; 
he could have written a chapter on it that would 
have gone blazing down the century ; but, in 
accordance with his nature and the habits of his 
life, he repressed his feelings, sui)2)ressed his 
information, and withheld his hand. Ambitious 
politicians can learn something to their advan- 
tage by reading the account of the way in which 
William H. Seward and Thurlow Weed con- 
ducted that campaign ; and veteran statesmen 



6 PREFACE. 

will doubtless follow the movements of those 
two consummate masters of political strategy 
with interest, and perhaps with delight. 

I have kept the materials for this volume by 
me, in phonographic short-hand notes, as long 
as Moses kept sheep for his father-in-law in 
Midian : forty years. 1 have always had the 
intention of some day writing them out for 
publication ; and now, in the hope that what I 
have written of the illustrious personages, whose 
characters I have sought to delineate, may be 
interesting to their countrymen and useful to 
other writers, I send forth this little book to 
the consideration of those who may chance to 
read it. 

Oliver Dyer. 

Mount Vernon, N. Y. 
Seyteiiiber^ 1889. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS. 



CIIAPTEK r. 

PRELT^rrXARY SKETCH OF INTERESTING EVENTS. 

I. The Second Session of the Tiiiktietii Cox- 
GREss, AXD Political Events Preceding It. — 
Session began Dec. 4, 1848. Condition of i)ulitical 
affairs and state of public feeling. Close of the Mex- 
ican war. Acquisition of new territory. Shall it 
come into the Union as slave or free ? Rancorous 
bitterness engendered by the question. Fixed policy 
of tlie South on the subject. No new free State with- 
out a new slave State. What the abolition wits said 
about it. What Col. Benton said about it. Wliy the 
Mexican war was forced on. l^he AVilmot Proviso. 
The unparalleled excitement it occasioned. Discus- 
sion of it not ended until Lee surrendered to Grant. 
The proviso in the Democratic, and Whig National 
Conventions of 1848. Trampled on in the Demo- 
cratic and smothered in the Whig Convention. Indig- 
nation of anti-slavery Democrats and abolition Whigs. 
Disloyalty to Henry Clay. My surprise thereat ; and 

[7] 



g CONTENTS. 

my eyes get opened very wide as to the character and 
ways of politicians. 

II. The movement that led to the defeat of 
Henry Clay. — Manipulated by William li. Seward 
and Thurlow Weed, of New York, Thomas Butler 
King, of Georgia, and Truman Smith, of Connecticut, 
Thurlow Weed chief manager. The motives for the 
movement. The Whig party in a critical situation. 
Singular and unexpected effect of the Mexican war 
upon political parties. General Taylor popular with 
the Whig rank and file, but not with the leaders. 
Nomination of General Cass by the Democrats 
inspires Seward .and Weed wdth hope; why it inspires 
them with hope. The Free-soil movement. How it 
must be managed to prevent its defeating the Whig 
candidate. John P. Hale must be set aside as its 
leader, and an influential Democrat put in his place. 
Barnburners and Old Hunkers ; their deadly animos- 
ity. General Cass ; his character ; hated by Martin 
Van Buren ; also, the friends of Silas Wright : the 
hopes his nomination gave to Seward and Weed. 
A very big ^'if." How to overcome the big '^if.^' 

III. Thurlow Weed ; the Secret of his Politi- 
cal Power. — His pertinacity and sagacity. The A\- 
han J Bve?ii?ig Journal. The New York press : Sun, 
Herald, Tribune. The Times and The World wot jei 
born. Reasons why the Albany Journal was then the 
most influential newspaper in the State of New York. 
Weed's masterly use of his power. His "^ personal 
column. '' His mode of winning tlie personal regard 
of promising young men. Young Frog, of Frog Hoi- 



CONTENTS. 9 

low. Hundreds of otlier Democratic Frogs, and also 
Whig Frogs, that had been hop^^ing tlirougli the Xew 
York Legislature for eighteen years. Thousands of 
Weed's personal friends, in both parties, scattered all 
through the State, llis adroit use of their friendship. 
His Jesuitical sympathy with the enraged Barnburners. 

IV. William H. Seward. — Why the masses did 
not perceive his iuteJlectual greatness. His wonder- 
ful sagacity and judgment. His cultivation of the 
friendship of young men and their fondness for him. 
His use of religious belieis and the hopes of reformers. 
His marvelous instinct as to when, how, and to whom 
to speak on critical subjects. His gift of formulating 
a battle-cry. He and Weed working together to defeat 
Clay and nominate Taylor. Their profound cunning. 
They have the co-operation of leading Jiarnburners. 
Great Barnburner meeting in City Hall Park. Meet- 
ing of Whig delegates at the Astor House on the same 
day. Why the meetings were thus arranged. The 
hand of Thurlov/ in it. Inllammatory report made 
to the Barnburners by Churchill C. C'limbreling, John 
A. Kennedy, Robert H. Maclay, AVilliam F. Have- 
meyer and Samuel J. Tilden. The powerful address 
read by David Dudley Field. How Seward and Weed 
turned all this Barnburner o;rist into their mill. 

V. The Whig National Convention of IS-tS. 
— How Clay was defeated and Taylor nominated. 
The adroitness and alertness of Taylor's friends ; the 
enthusiasm and folly of Clay's. Organization of the Con- 
vention. Sijnificant arrangement for calling the roll. 
The first ballot. Clay's friends thunder-struck at the 



g CONTENTS. 

my eyes get opened very wide as to the character and 
ways of politicians. 

II. The movement that led to the defeat of 
Henry Clay. — ManipuUited by William H. Seward 
and Thurlow Weed, of New York, Thomas Butler 
King, of Georgia, and Truman Smith, of Connecticut. 
Thurlow Weed chief manager. The motives for the 
movement. The Whig party in a critical situation. 
Singular and unexpected effect of the Mexican war 
upon political parties. General Taylor popular with 
the Whig rank and file, but not Avith the leaders. 
Nomination of General Cass by the Democrats 
inspires Seward .and Weed with hope; why it inspires 
them with hope. The Free-soil movement. How it 
must be managed to prevent its defeating the AVhig 
candidate. John P. Hale must be set aside as its 
leader, and an influential Democrat put in his place. 
Barnburners and Old Hunkers ; their deadly animos- 
ity. General Cass ; his character ; hated by Martin 
Van Buren ; also, the friends of Silas Wright : the 
hopes his nomination gave to Seward and Weed. 
A very big ^^if."^ How to overcome the big '^if." 

III. Thurlow Weed ; the Secret of his Politi- 
cal Power. — Hts pertinacity and sagacity. The Al- 
bany Evening Journal. The New York press : 8un, 
Herald, Tribune. Tlie Times and The World i^ot yet 
born. Reasons why the Albany Journal was then the 
most influential newspaper in the State of New York. 
Weed's masterly use of liis power. His " personal 
column. '^ His mode of winning tlie personal regard 
of promising young men. Young Frog, of Frog Hoi- 



CONTENTS. 9 

low. Hundreds of other Democratic Frogs, and also 
Whig Frogs, that had been hopping througli the New 
York Legishiture for eighteen years. Tliousands of 
Weed's personal friends, in both parties, scattered all 
through the State. His adroit use of their friendship. 
His Jesuitical sympathy with the enraged Barnburners. 

IV. William H. Seuakd. — Why the masses did 
not perceive his inteJlectual greatness. His wonder- 
ful sagacity and judgment. His cultivation of the 
friendship of young men ar.d their fondness for him. 
His use of religious beliefs and the hopes of reformers. 
His marvelous instinct as to wjien, how, and to whom 
to speak on critical subjects. His gift of formulating 
a battle-cry. He and Weed working together to defeat 
Clay and nominate Taylor. Tlu'ir })rofound cunning. 
'J'hey have the co-operalion of leading Barnburners. 
(Jreat Barnburner meeting in City Hall Park. Meet- 
V]<^ of Wliiir deleirates at the Astor House on the same 
day. Why the meetings were thus arranged. The 
hand of Thurlow in it. Inllammatory report made 
to the Barnburners by Churchill C. Cambreling, John 
A. Kennedy, Robert H. Maclay, William F, Ilave- 
meyer and Samuel J. Tilden. The powerful address 
read by David Dudley Field. How Seward and Weed 
lurned all this Barnburner iijrist into th( ir mill. 

V. TiiK Wniu National (Jonvextiox of IS-iS. 
— How Clay was defeated and Taylor nominated. 
The adroitness and alertness of Taylor's friends ; the 
enthusiasm and folly of Clay's. Organization of the Con- 
vention. Significant arrangement for calling the I'oU. 
The first ballot. Clay's friends thunder-struck at the 



XO CONTENTS. 

result. Cries of ''Treachery." Taylor ahead. Second 
ballot still worse for Clay and better for Taylor. Wily 
conduct of Truman Smith. Opponents of Taylor 
alarmed ; they make and carry a motion to adjourn. 
Folly of Clay's friends. Wisdom of Taylor's friends. 
Third day of the Convention. Intense but subdued 
excitement. Third ballot. Truman Smith shows 
his hand and sounds the knell of Henry Clay. 
Emphatic response of the Taylor men. Taylor gets 
133 votes and Clay only 74. A Avild and stormy 
scene. Horace Greeley and James A¥atson Webb. 
Taylor nominated on the fourth ballot. Wrath of the 
Clay men. They swear they will go home and do all 
they can to defeat the nomination. ^Yho shall be 
nominated for Vice-President ? Abbot Lawrence 
thrown overboard. Millard Fillmore nominated to 
placate the anti-slavery delegates. But it won't do. 
Alarming disaffection. Horace Greeley starts for 
home "across New Jersey, afoot and alone." Heiiry 
J. Raymond's scorn and hatred of Greeley. Failure 
of the Whig ratification meeting in Pliiladel23hia. 
The ticket unpopular in the I\^orth, East and West. 
Only hope of electing Taylor founded on the hope that 
Van Buren will lead the Free-soil movement. The Barn- 
burners nominate him at Utica, and he declines. 
Seward and Weed to the rescue. 

VI. Martin Van Buren, — A greater and better 
man than lie was supposed to be. My first meeting 
with him; Clay present also. Comparison and 
contrast of the two great rivals. VanBuren's great 
intellectual power, his elegant manners, his wonderful 



CO^^TENTS. li 

self-possession . Ilis character analyzed and stated. 
AVliy he was not a great orator. His capacity for 
avenging wrong.s. His tenacity of i)urpose. His chaf- 
ing under {Southern lead. The tyranny of Southern 
leaders; what Daniel Webster said about it ; the South 
proud of it. Van IJuren resolved on revolt and* venge- 
ance. Seward andWeed understand him. They form 
an alliance with Benjamin F. Butler, of New York, a 
distiniiuished democrat and Van Ikireii's most trusted 
friend. A possible way of bringing Van Buren tu the 
front as the leader uf the great auti-shivery l)olt. 

VII. The Fiip:e-soil National Convextiox at 
Buffalo.— John P. Hale the favorite of the Con- 
vention. Danger of his nomination as the Free-soil 
candidate for the Presidency. Van Buren's discourag- 
ing letter. Hale's friends Fanguine. They make the 
same mistake ihat Clay's friends made at Philadelphia. 
Butler's masterly tactics in heading off Hale's 
nomination. The Committee on nominations. Butler 
controls the committee, A searching question fi'om an 
inquisitive committeonKin. "^'Damn his [Van Buren's] 
cabbages and turnipsi what does he say about abolition 
of slavery in the Deestrick of Coluniby?'' Butler's 
triumphant reply. Van Buren nominated, and accepts. 
Charles Francis Adams nominated for Vice-President, 
and accepts. Rousing jdatforni adopted. The Free- 
soiler's battle-cry: '^No more slave States, and no 
slave territory." 

VIII. The Triangular fight for the Presi- 
dency, and the effect of its result upon 
PUBLIC feeling in WASHINGTON. — Dcspondency 



12 CONTENTS. 

of the Whigs at the beginning of the campaign. Clay 
comes to the rescue. Daniel Webster enters the fight. 
So does Horace Greeley. The result depends on the 
vote of New York. Van Buren is so popular that he 
draws otf votes enough from Cass to give New York 
to Taylor, and ''Old Zach'' is elected President. 
Animosities engendered by the bitter contest are trans- 
ferred to Washington. Irritation of the South ; also 
of the North. Agitating rumors; mobs; apprehensions 
of leading statesmen 33 



CHAPTER II. 

GENERAL HOUSTON.— JEFFERSON DAVIS.— JOHN P. 
HALE.— STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS.— SIMON CAM- 
ERON.— HANNIBAL HAMLIN.- ALEX- 
ANDER H. STEPHENS. 

I. General Sam Houston. — Thirty States and 
sixty Senators in 1848. Only two of the Senators now 
living — Hannibal Hamlin, of Maine, and Jefferson 
Davis, of Mississippi. Four great Senators — Calhoun, 
Benton, Clay and Webster — of whom I intend to write 
particularly. Other Senators worthy of notice. Gen- 
eral Houston. The romance which encircled his 
name. His boyhood. His early popularity. His 
brilliant career. Elected Governor of Tennessee 
when thirty-four years old. Marries a beautiful girl. 
A harrowing discovery. Resigns his governorship and 



CONTENTS. 13 

disappeiirs from civilization. Reason for liis course. 
Bt'CoQies 11 chief of the Ciierokees. Goes to Texas 
and is made commandor-in-chief of her army. De- 
feats and captures Santa Anna. Texas annexed to 
the United States and Houston becomes a United 
States Senator. Interest felt in General Houston forty 
years ago. Tragic circumstances of the Texan war of in- 
dependence then fresh in the public mind. Iltroisni of 
the defeijders of the Alamo. Kubust religion on the 
Niagara frontier. How we i)rayed for vengeance on the 
Mexicans. News of the massacre of Colonel Fannin and 
his men at Goliad. 'J'remendous excitement. reo])le 
aroused to madness. Company of boys formed to-march 
down and ravage Mexico. News comes of Houston's 
victory over Santa Anna, and the bovs stay at home. 
Houston a popular hero. My first sight of him. His 
l)ersonal appearance. His style of dress. His jier- 
sonal habits. Not fitted to shine in a parliamentary 
body. Whittling was his principal employment in the 
Senate. His impatience with long-winded speakei"s. 
His devotion to lady friends. Would have had a Cab- 
inet of women if he had l)een President. A lonelv, 
melancholy man ; and no wonder, if the tragic story 
of his early life was true. His patiiotism. His 
death. 

II. Jefferson^ Davts. — He was forty years old 
in 1848. Was General 'J'aylor's son-in-law. His 
lameness from a wound received a li-ttle while before. 
Was a ])opular hero. His gidlantry at the battle of 
Buena Vista. General Taylor's isolated condition at 
Buena Vista. Terrible apprehensions as to his fate. 



1 4 CONTENTS. 

No news of him attainable. Santa Anna rushing 
upon him with an overwhelming force. Inexpressible 
public anxiety. The ear of the nation turned to Buena 
Vista in an agony of suspense. News at last. A des- 
perate fight and a great victory. A wild revel of pub- 
lic rejoiciug. The whole country breaks out into illum- 
inations. Glowing accounts of the gallantry and skill of 
Colouel Jefferson Davis, of the First Mississippi Vol- 
unteers. He holds a vital poiut against six times his 
force. Frightfully wounded and ordered to quit the 
field. But he won't go. Has his wound dressed 
while sitting in his saddle and holds on. The desper- 
ate charge of the Mexican cavalry upon the Mississip- 
pians. Colonel Davis forms them into a V. The 
Mexicans ride in and are blown from their saddles. 
That ends it. Mr. Davis's personal appearance and 
be:iring. His style and ability as a debater. His 
kindness of heart and his courtesy to everybody. He 
wins my affection and keeps it, although I was a hot- 
hearted young abolitionist and detested his political 
principles. My grateful feelings towards him after 
forty years. 

III. John" P. Hale. — The first man elected 
United States Senator on a square anti-slavery issue. 
Repoi't that his life was threatened. Futile attem])t to 
browbeat him into silence. What the Methodist Min- 
ister from New Hampshire said about Hale. Hale's 
courage, his good-nature, his laziness. His wit and 
humor. His voice and style of speaking. His readi- 
ness at repartee. Senator Foote, of Mississippi, says 
they'd hang him if they ever caught him in that State. 



CONTENTS. 15 

Tliilo's good-iiatarjcl anil witty i"oply- His final popu- 
larity with tlie majority of iiis Senatorial colleagues. 

IV. Stepiikx a. Douolas. — Had been but a 
little while in che Senate, in 1848. Already taking 
high rank as a debater. His fine voice and impressive 
manner. Called " The little giant," but not a little 
man. Short of stature but large in body. His large, 
linely-developed head. His urbane, but simple and 
democratic manner in social intercourse. Not an 
atom of pi-etcnse about him. Ifis fondness for young 
men, ami theii- alfection for him. His winning man- 
ner with reporters. Testimony of a distinguished 
friend, after Douglas' death, as to his fascinating per- 
sonal intercourse with young men. 

V. SiMox Cameron". — His knowin<xncss. His 
physical and mental alertness. His style in debate ; 
what .lohn V. Hale said of it. He brings on the first 
debate <d" the session, l^ a iVnnsvlvania Tariff Deni- 
ocrat. Exasperates his Democratic brethren by at- 
tacking their free-trade policy. Senator Hale's hu- 
morous remarks. The Whig Senators enjoy the quar- 
rel. Why the reporters were grateful to Cameron for 
bringing on the debate. The system of reporting. 
Dissatisfaction of Senators. Resolution to abolish or 
modify the system. Cameron stands by the reporters 
and they all like him. His faithfulness to friends, 
llis plnck and grit. A memorable occasion on Avhicli 
they were displayed. His i)ersonal collision with Sen- 
ator Foote. What General Houston said al)out it. 
His i)opularity. Indiscreet expressions of admiration 
by some of his friends. 



16 CONTENTS. 

yj. Hai^n-ibal Hamlin. — He is the younoost of 
the two survivors of the sixt}^ Seuiitors of 1848. 
When he, Jefferson Davis and Cameron were respec- 
tively born. His distinguished career. Seldom took 
part in debate. My meagre observation of him. Two 
convictions which Hamlin's appearance impressed upon 
me, as to his honesty and integrity, and as to his geni- 
ality and agreeableness as a comp.-inion. 

VII. Alexander H. Stephens. — An Incident 
at Judge McLean's. — A k^sson in phonography to 
distinguished people. Master Muri)hy's exhibition of 
skill in rapid writing. Mr. Stephens objects to having 
the Declaration of Independence read to Murphy, be- 
cause he (Stephens) when he was as old as Murphy (14 
years,) knew it and the Constitution of the United 
States by heart. Hon. Thomas Ewing thinks tliat 
Stephens must have been a very precocious boy. 
Stephens says that he was not precocious, nnd that all 
his school-fellows were equally familiar with the Declara- 
tion and the Constitution. Smart boys down in Georgia. 
According to Calhoun, South Carolina bo3^s were 
scholastically brought up in a totally different way. . . 110 



CONTENTS. 17 



CILVrTER III. 
JOHN C. CALHOUN. 

T. TIow Calhoun was looked upon in the 
NoKTir. — My own hostile feelings towiirds him. My 
first view of him in the Senate. His appearance per- 
fectly ^satisfactory. lie looked like un embodiment 
of the devil. His personal ai»pt'arance. The first 
time I heard him in debate. That everlasting Wilmot 
Proviso comes np from an nnexpected quarter. It 
brings Calhoun to hi.s feet. lie denounces the petition 
containing the Proviso. Ilis elegant, winning, con- 
vincing manner. His charming voice. Benton 
replies ferociously and exasperatingly. A heated 
debate. Ciilhoun maintains his high-toned and 
captivating manner to its close. My change of feeling 
towards him. T begin to like him. I (hjii't like my 
liking him. I think it is traitorous to my abolition 
principles, but as time goes on I like him better and 
better, in spite of all I can do. 

II. .V New Yeau's call on Calhoun; the 
State Rights doctkixe fuom his owx lips. — I call, 
at Mr. Calhoun's request, to explain the then new sys- 
tem of phonographic writing to him. His interest in 
the system and in Master Murphy's exhibitions of rapid 
writing. He talks about reporting. One mistake 
which reporters constantly made in reporting his 
speeches. They represented him as saying " this 



IS CONTENTS. 

nation '' instead of " this Union/' He never called 
the United States a " nation/' The reason he didn't 
call the United States a '' nation " involved the whole 
State Rights doctrine. Subsequent interviews. Cal- 
houn's explanation of '' Sovereignty/' His distinction 
between sovereignty and government. The doctrine 
of State sovereignty. Why the Union was formed. 
Its powers and its limitations. Why a single Sfate is 
more sovereign than the United States. The Federal 
Government hasn't any sovereignty at all, but is the 
mere common agent or employee of the sovereign 
States. Under what circumstances a State has a right 
to secede from the Union. 

III. The DOCTRii>rE of secessioi^ originally 
NOT A South Carolina but a Massachusetts 
HERESY.— It was not originated by Calhoun, but by 
Josiah Qumcy. First broached by Quincy in the 
House of Representatives in January, 1811. He is 
called to order by Poindexter, of Mississippi. Quincy 
reduces his words to writing so there can be no mis- 
take. The Speaker decides that he is out of order. 
He appeals from the decision of the Speaker and the 
House sustains his appeal by a vote of 56 to 53. 
Calhoun did not take his seat in the House of Repre- 
sentatives till ten months afterwards. In his first 
report to the House, on Foreign Relations, he calls 
the United States '' this nation," showing that he had 
not then adopted Quincy's secession doctrine. Thirty- 
three years afterwards, in 1844, Charles Francis 
Adams introduces a secession and disunion resolution 
into the Massachusetts Legislature, which is adopted. 



CONTENTS. 19 

thus following- u]) Quiiuy's leiul. While not attempt- 
ing to exonerate Calhoun for the consequences of his 
political coui'se, I wish to treat the subject fairly and 
truthfully. What is sauce for the South Carolina 
goose is also sauce for the Massachusetts gander. 

IV. Caliiou:n^'s views ox tiik Education of 
Hoys and his opinion of (Jenkkal Jackson. — lie 
thought Northern })eo})le all wrong as to their ideas 
and uKjdes of educalion. Too much cultivation of 
the mind and not enough develo[)ment of body, 
Soutli Carolina boys trained differently from Georgia 
boys. *'Look at that boy !" (Master Murj)hy.) 
How South Carolina boys were trained in Calhoun's 
time. AVhat the ultimate result of the northern sys- 
tem of education will be. The people, though intel- 
lectually brilliant, will have to take ;in inferior posi- 
tion in practical alfairs. Calhoun i)robably got a 
good deal of satisfaction out of this view of the case. 
My question about GeneralJackson. It was an inex- 
cusal)le blunder. Its effect on Calhoun. His reply. 
Its signilicance ; it seemed to be a vivid revelation of 
Calhoun's inward spirit. 

Calhoun's Quarrel with GeneralJackson; 
AND its result. — My increasing affcctiou for Calhoun, 
and regret at his political course. His splendid careei-, 
from his entry into public life to his ruptuie with 
Jackson. Cause of the rupture. Jackson's high- 
handed course in Florida in 1819. His wrath when 
Congress censured his course. Thi-eatens to cut off 
the ears of Congressmen. President Moni-oe asks for 
the opinion, in writing, of the members of his Cabi- 



20 CONTENTS. 

net. All the opinions favorable to Jackson, except 
Calhoun's, yet Jackson somehow got the idea that 
Calhoun was the only Cabinet officer who stood by 
him. His gratitude to Calhoun. Calhoun elected 
Vice-President on the Jackson ticket. In the direct 
line of succession to the Presidency. But his opinion 
of 1819 against Jackson, is brought to light. Old 
Hickory^s fury. He swears eternal vengeance against 
Calhoun ; whose hopes of future national promotion 
are blighted. How the fatal opinion came to be 
made known. All sorts of opinions on the subject. 
The Peggy O'Neil or Mrs. Eaton controversy supposed 
to have occasioned the exposure. What the Peggy 
O'Neil scandal was. General Jackson involved in a 
war with a coterie of aristocratic ladies. The ladies 
more than a match for Old Hickory. He is beaten, 
the only time in his life. It is thought that this con- 
troversy occasioned the divulgation of Calhoun's Cab- 
inet opinion. Some charge the exposure u^^on Van 
Buren ; others, upon Crawford, of Georgia. Effect of 
the divulgation of the opinion, and the rupture with 
Jackson, upon Calhoun, His new departure as to 
slavery. The South follows his lead. Henry Clay's 
reply to one of Calhoun^'s points. 

VI. Calhoun's fascination in Personal inter- 
course. — His conversational poweis. His voice. His 
enunciation. The simplicity of his manners. Clear- 
ness of his ideas. Harriet Martineau's singular dec- 
laration about him. From what her supposition 
probably arose. Calhoun's kindness of heart. His 
moral and spiritual purity. His urbanity, refine- 



CONTENTS. 21 

ment, gentleness, winsomeness, strength and manli- 
ness. His beantiful nature mirrored in his face. 
His morning greeting like a benediction that lasted 
the whole day. His unsatisfactory political life. 
The sweetness and felicity of his social life. His last 
days. — The advantage to me of my early acquaintance 
with Calhoun and Jefferson Davis 147 

CHAPTER IV. 
THOMAS II. BENTON. 

I. Benton's hatkp:d of Caliioux. — Benton 
called the Great Missourian ; Calhoun, the Great 
South Carolinian. The two men contrasted. Why 
Benton hated Calhoun. 

II. How to estimate character. — The two 
factors — Heredity and Environment — in the formation 
of character. Heredity can only be developed, not 
changed. Tragic incident illustrating this truth. A 
vegetarian bear. Trying to change a bear from a 
carnivorous to a herbivorous animal. The tragic 
result. What are considered unaccountable develop- 
ments of character explainable by the doctrine - of 
heredity. 

III. Benton's character. — His heredity. It 
had characteristics of the bear, the bull and the eagle. 
Mentally and politically a Roman Senator ; in 
physique and temper a Roman gladiator. His 
wonderful body and his wonderful head. His courage 
and his cunning. His perception, his firmness and 



22 CONTENTS. 

his self-esteem. His head ran up to a peak like the 
island of Teneriffe. His wonderfu-1 combination of 
mental, physical and moral qualities. His environ- 
ment. From boyhood, and during the first half of 
his life, it was such as to bring his hereditary traits to 
a full development. Fighting Indians, wild beasts 
and half-civilized neighbors. Street fight with 
General Jackson in Nashville. Goes to Missouri. 
Fights continue. What Benton said about his fights ; 
they were followed by funerals. Elected United 
States Senator. His character then fixed ; what it 
was. How it is to be judged. His singular habit of 
bathing. ^' The Eoman gladiators did it, sir." His 
skin had become a sheath of leather. He was in 
every sense the thickest-skinned man of his time. 

IV. Benton's chakacteristics as a debater. — 
His seeming indifference to praise or blame. His capa- 
city for wrath. Most dangerous in debate when most 
angry. His wit and sarcasm. His power of torturing 
an opponent. His singular and formidable use of the 
word ^* sir." His amusing and effective mode of 
repeating phrases with slight variations. A memor- 
able instance of that practice. His knowledge of the 
resources of the country. His power in all questions 
relating to material and practical affairs. Not 
eloquent, hut interesting. The old Indian-fighter 
apparent in his manner. His discursive mode of 
speaking. Looking for scalps in by-paths of animad- 
version. His habit of expunging extraneous matter 
from his speeches after the reporters had written them 
out. Would cut his speeches down from a-half to 



CONTENTS. 23 

two-thirds. The reporters, being paid by the column, 
diun^t like such ruthless curtailments. 

V. Bextox's Egotism. — The most marked feature 
of his character. Yet not at all offensive ; on the 
contrary, agreeable. It was recognized as a fitting 
apex to his pyramidal character. It pervaded every- 
thing he said or did. Anecdotes illustrating his 
egotism. General Jackson and the United States 
Bank ; publication of his *' Thirty Years in the 
United States Senate." His absurdly high opinion of 
the public estimation and the popularity of his 
writings, si)ceches and Congressional rejiorts. More 
anecdotes. '*An American kneels only to God and 
woman, sir." " T-r-u-s-ten Polk I" ''You lie, sir. 
I cram the lie down your throat, sir." " AVhen God 
Almighty lays his hand upon a man, sir, I take mine 
off, sir." 

VI. The Better side of Benton's Cuarac- 
TER. — His patriotism. His high sense of public duty. 
His honesty. His friendship for the poor — })oor 
blacks as well as poor whites. His protection of frontier- 
men and pioneers. His fidelity to his family and his 
friends. Touching anecdote about his wif(.',showing his 
affectionate and chivalric devotion to her. His death. 
Clinracteristic conduct as the breath faded from his 
iron lips 190 



24 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER V. 



HENRY CLAY. 



I. Some of Clay's distinguishing character 
iSTics. — His height. His brilliancy and his chivalry. 
His phenomenal popularity and the reason of it. His 
rare combination of attractive qualities. His captivat- 
ing manners. His marvelous memory. His kindness 
of heart. His genuine interest in the welfare of his 
fellow-citizens. His intense patriotism. The great 
champion of American industry. His interest in all 
kinds of industrial pursuits and in the people engaged 
in them. 

II. Leading characteristic of his mind ; his 
ORATORY. — Penetration the loading characteristic of 
his mind. His great powers of perception. His man- 
ner in debate. His wonderful voice. His animation 
and vehemence. His speaking countenance. A great 
soul on fire. The effect of his oratory enhanced by 
the peculiar conformation of his forehead. Sometimes 
seemed to be rising in the air and taking the audience 
along with him. AVhat an old lady said about the ef- 
fect of his oratory. The secret of all this. Clay's 
unique and unmatchable heredity. His physical 
structure. His vital force. His strenuous blood. How 
he came to pass, in his totality, and what the net re- 
sult of it all was. His honesty. *^^I'd rather be right 
than be President." His first solicitude was for his 



CONTENTS. 25 

principles ; his second, for his friends ; his last, for him- 
self. His industry ; his simplicity of life. The peo- 
ple believed in him, and all these things helped his 
oratory. Ilis ''' looking countenance." The clearness 
and simplicity of his style. Clay's speeches are not 
read now. It is for the same reason that a lovers 
speeches are not read. They are made for the occa- 
sion and not for future ages. Clay spoke to win his 
cause right there and tlien and was content with his 
immediate success. Clay's felicitous style of telling 
an anecdote. One of his favorite stories. 

III. Clay's CHIEF FAULT in debate. — A notable 
instance of its exhibition. His collision with Cal- 
houn. Their estrangement for years. Their touch- 
ing reconciliation. A memorable scene. The per- 
sonal manner of the two great Senatorial veterans 
contrasted. 

IV. The way in wnirii the four cjueat Sen- 
ators — Calhoun, Benton, Clay and Webster — 
re(.'eived strangers who w^ere introduced to 
THEM. — The custom of introducing strangers to the 
*'(}reat Four," by members of Congress. Form of 
introduction. Calhoun's way of receiving a stranger. 
Benton's way. His overwhelming and imperious gra- 
ciousness frightens a stranger. Webster's manner : 
Cold, ungracious and offensive. He made enemies by 
it. Clay's manner : affable, captivating and full of tact 
and good-fellowship. Made fi'iends of the introducers 
and the })ersons introduced. 

V. Tom Marshall's anecdote. — How the law 
lirm of Breckenridge & Marshall gravitated to the head 



26 CONTENTS. 

of the Kentucky b;ir, with only one exception, and that 
exception was Henry Clay. How they longed to en- 
counter Clay, so as to put an end to the one exception 
to their leadership. They watch for an opportunity 
and find it. How they supposed they had " laid out'^ 
Clay forever. But they were mistaken. How the old 
lion drove Marshall to the bottle and Breckenridge to 
the Bible with one swoop of his paw. 

VI. Clay's felicity in" exordium. — A notable 
example. A sketch leading up to the occasion. His 
retiracy from the Senate in 1842. His renson for re- 
tiring. Treachery of the "Tyler Whigs." Clay's 
intolerable position. He Avas missed as soon as he re- 
tired. The people wanted him back. Clay's poverty. 
The old man goes home to Lexington, Kentucky, and 
resumes the practice of law to earn his daily bread. 
The spectacle touches the heart of the nation. The 
rank and file of the Whig party clamor for his nomi- 
nation for the Presidency in 1844. His enemies 
alarmed. They set to work to kill him off. A con- 
certed svstem of defamation. He announces that he 
will meet his fellow-citizens at Lexington and reply to 
his defamers. A great multitude assembles to hear 
him. The composition of the audience. Clay's open- 
ing remarks set the people wild. G-reat excitement. 
Enemies of Henry Clay looked for, but luckily none 
were found. His great speech and its great effect. He 
is nominated for the Presidency by acclamation in '44. 
A great campaign and a great defeat. A Whig poet's 
lamentation. The cause of Clay's defeat. His elec- 
tion to the Presidency omitted from the great pro- 



CONTENTS. 27 

gninime of events ^hat was prepared for the United 
States by the hand of God 218 



CHAPTER YL 
DxYNTEL WEBSTER. 

I. The godlike Daniel. — His intellectual supe- 
riority over all rivals. His personal appearance ; his 
phenomenal head ; his brow; his eyes ; his forehead ; 
his majestic personality ; his voice ; his power of 
miignifying a word; his hair; his complexion. The 
overwhelming atmosphere and sense of power which 
emanated from and surrounded him. 

II. His first appearaxce (of the session) in 
THE Senate chamber. — How I knew it was Webster. 
His reception by the Senate. The attention and 
respect always paid to him. No other Senator list- 
ened to as he was. His miserable health. His ap- 
jiearance and reception whenever he arose to address 
the Senate ; perfect description of him from Para- 
dise Lost. 

III. Webster's mental make-up. — The most won- 
derful ever known on the American continent. The 
operations of his perceptive and reflective faculties. 
His imagination. His veneration. Some things in 
which he was unrivalled. What is necessary in order 
to understand Webster's greatness. Aggregation of 
inferiority cannot produce superiority. Illustrated 
by the speed of the famous race-horse Eclipse. His 



^8 CONTENTS. 

body large enough to support his brain. His temper- 
aments. Their admirable correlation with his whole 
physical organism. The wonderful mental result of 
all this. Webster^s irresistible logical power. His 
subtlety never understood or appreciated. Applica- 
tion of Sir Walter Scott's anecdote of Richard Coeur 
de Lion and Saladin. Crowning attributes of Web- 
ster's mind. His eloquence. His vast common sense. 
His power of concentration and demonstration. Pecu- 
liar quality of his condensation. Quintilian's *' Insti- 
tutes of Oiatory.'' Webster's oratory came up to all 
the requirements of the old Roman. His exordium. 
His statement of fact. The conclusiveness of his 
argument. No use for any one to reply. Application 
to Webster of Quintilian's characterization of Cicero. 

IV. Webster as a parliamentary leader. — 
A memorable instance of his skill and power. Last 
night of the Second Session of the Thirtieth Congress. 
The session supposed to expire at midnight. Two 
important bills — the Civil and Diplomatic Appropia- 
tion bill, and the bill establishing the Department of 
the Interior — to be passed, both loaded dow^n with 
Senatorial amendments. Discussions on the Interior 
Department bill. Calhoun's State-rights argument. 
Webster's reply. Webster powerfully assisted by Sen- 
ator Davis, of Mississippi. Hour of midnight strikes 
and many Senators hold that the session has termina- 
ted. Other Senators say the great Appropiation bill 
must be passed, or the Government can't go on, unless 
the incoming Piesident (General Taylor) calls an 
extra session of Congress. Others reply that it is no use 



CONTENTS. 29 

to try to pass the bill, the House of Representatives 
having amended the Senate's California amendment, 
there is no possibility of breaking the dead-lock. Ben- 
ton, Cass, Calhoun and other Senators sit silent, as they 
liold that the session of the Senate has expired. 
WeT^ster comes to the rescue. He first settles the 
question as to the session of the Senate. It must 
continue, until the Appropriation bill is jmssed with- 
out regard to c-1-o-c-k-s. Etfect of his uttei-ance of 
the word clocks. He convinces the majority of the 
Senators that the Senate is in lawful session. The 
debate on the bill goes on. Scenes of indescribable 
confusion. Amendments piled ui)on amendments. 
*'Tlie House that Jack Built." A motion to adjourn 
sine die. AVebster defeats it. ''The President of the 
United States has gone iiome." AVebster's reply to 
the announcement. Senator Foote's intolerable ver- 
bosity. He is hissed. He is groaned at. His mag- 
niloquent declaration. Webster comes to the rescue 
of the Aii})ropriation bill. His mastery on every 
point. His art ; his humor; his good nature; his 
tact ; his crushing logic; ; his superior dialectic adroit- 
ness ; his sarcasm ; his soothing flattery ; his per- 
suasiveness ; his common sense ; his knowledge of 
human nature; his terrific power; his good-nature 
under interruptions ; his thundering response to one 
of Senator Foote's interru^jtions \ the effect on Foote. 
Webster's constant progress toward victory ; his final 
triumi)h ; the Senatorial amendment is receded from, 
and the Appropiation bill passed. The Senate 
adjourns at 7 o'clock Sunday morning. Inadequacy 



30 CONTENTS. 

of the printed report to give anything like a just 
idea of the scene, or of Webster's power. 

V. Other characteristics. — General acknowl- 
edgement of Webster's intellectual power ; also, of 
certain of his defects. What those defects were, and 
the effect of them. Perhaps it was fortunate for tlie 
country that he had such defects. His incomputable 
service to the country. He won the battle for the 
Union in the Senate, and thus prepared the way for 
our armies to win the battles for it in the field. 

VI. An occasion when Webster avas enraged. 
— Butler's (of South Carolina) assertion of the bad 
faith of the Northern States. He says they always 
broke the compromises as soon as they could see a 
chance to make money by doing so. Therefore he 
was sick at heart of the word compromise. He 
denounces the North. When Butler sits down, Web- 
ster is seen to be getting up. His getting up not 
merely an act ; it is a processs. He is enrnged. His 
magnificent appearance ; intense excitement. Web- 
ster's opening sentences. *^ He will find in me a 
COMBATANT on that question !" Senator Mangum 
said the word combatant weighed about forty tons. 
AYebster's overwhelming presence. Butler attemi)ts 
to respond, but is restrained by his friends. Calhoun 
to the rescue. Turns the discussion upon constitu- 
tional points. Webster misses a great op23ortunity. 
Deluded by the South, with the lure of their support 
of him for the Presidency in 1852. Makes his 7th of 
March speech. Is cast aside by the South and their 
Northern allies in '52. Dies in October of that year. 



CONTENTS. 31 

going down to bis grave under a hcart-crusliing load 
of disappointed ambition and i)olitical despair. 

VII. Source of his political despair. — His 
passionate love of tbe Union. His incomparable political 
insight and foresight. He saw clearly into the govern- 
ing principles of things, and he saw clear to tbe bottom. 
His Plymouth Rock oration (1820) furnishes ammu- 
nition for the anti-monopolists of tbe present day. His 
remarkable veneration. Its effect upon his character, 
his affections and his mental o])erations. Its effect 
upon his patriotism. He loved the Union and under- 
stood its incomputable imi)ortance. He valued it 
above everything else. Abraham Lincoln did the 
same. Extract from Lincoln's reply to Horace Gree- 
ley's open letter addressed to him in August, 1802. No 
use for persons who do not understand these attributes 
of Webster's mind to attempt to sit in judgment on 
his political course. Events justilieil Webster. Sew- 
ard, Chase, and other alarmed anti-slavery statesmen 
voted in Congress, in 18G1, for measures that Webster 
was hounded to his grave for advocating in 1850. His 
eloquent prayer that he might not see the curtain of 
disunion rise, or the ^^ gorgeous ensign of the repub- 
lic '^ dishonored. These great men — Calhoun, Benton 
Clay and Webster — deserve our gratitude for their 
services to the country, and we can overlook their 
errors. — Benediction^ axd Farewell 251 



GREAT SENATORS 

OF FORTY YEARS AGO (1848). 



♦♦♦- 



CHAPTER I. 

PRELIMINARY SKKTCH OF INTKRESTIXO EVENTS. 

I. The Sp:cond Session of the Thirtieth Con- 
gress AND Political Events Preceding it. 

The second session of the Thirtieth Congress 
hno-aii on Monday, December -ith, 1S4S. I was 
there as a reporter, in tlie Senate, for tlie 
National Intelligencer, which was then a widely 
circulated and influential newspaper. 

The condition of political affairs and the 

state of public feeling at the beginning of the 

Congressional session in 18-18, excited a good 

deal of apprehension in the minds of leading 

[33] 



34 GREA.T SENATORS. 

statesmen. The Mexican war had but recently 
closed, and we had acquired a vast stretch of 
territory, including Arizona, Utah, Colorado, 
Nevada, New Mexico and California. These 
Territories were to come into the Union as 
States ; and the question of questions in that day 
was whether they should come in as slave States 
or as free States ; in other words, whether 
slavery should he confined within the limits it 
then occupied or be extended into new territory. 

It is impossil)le to bring the rancorous bitter- 
ness which that question then excited within 
the comprehension of people who were not liv- 
ing and old enough to understand the general 
course of events at that period. 

It was the fixed policy of the South to keep 
the free States from . outnumbering the slave 
States. By this means, although in a minority 
in the House of Eepresentatives, they w^ould 
maintain an equality in the Senate, and thus be 
enabled to check legislation hostile to slavery. 
In pursuance of this policy, Florida and Iowa 



WAll WITH MEXICO. 35 

had recently been admitted into the Union at 
the same time (December, 18^6), by the provisions 
of a bill coupling them together. The abolition 
wits of the day remarked that things had come 
to such a pass that a white baby conld not now 
Ik; born into tlio Union unless a black one was 
born at the same time. Colonel Benton com- 
mont(^d on the contemporaneous admission of 
the two States in his sol<»nm, sarcastic way, 
])retending thnt h(^ was unable to see why two 
States, one of which \v;is tbe oldest and the 
other the newest teriitory ; one in the extreme 
north-west of the Union, tin; other in the ex- 
treme south-east; one the land of ev(M*greens 
.'ind i»erpetual llowers, the other the c-limate of 
long and rigorous winter, and with nothing 
whatever either in interest or histoi-v, or in fact 
or in sentiment to unite them, should be cradled 
in oiK^ bill and brought into the Union together. 
i As there was no more territory out of which 
slave States conld ])i-obably be made, the war 
with Mexico was forced on for the purpose of 



36 GREAT SENATORS. 

acquiring territory into which slavery could be 
extended. The territory had been acquired ; 
and now (18J:8) here it was, and the contention 
was whether it should be handed over to 
slavery or secured to freedom. 

In 1846, while the war with Mexico was 
raging, a bill was introduced into the House of 
Eepresentatives appropriating two million dol- 
lars to defray the expenses of negotiating a 
peace. The amount of the appropriation was 
subsequently increased a million dollars, and 
the measure became known as the three-million 
bill. While this bill was pending in the House 
of Representatives, David Wilmot, a Democratic 
Eepresentative from Pennsylvania, moved to 
amend it by adding a provision that slavery 
should not be introduced into any of the terri- 
tory that should be acquired from Mexico. 

That little amendment at once became 
famous as the Wilmot Proviso. It occasioned 
a prodigious excitement in Congress, which 
rapidly spread throughout the countr}^ It 



THE WILMOT PROVISO. 37 

greatly embittered and exasperated tlie South, 
as well it might, for it struck at the very life of 
slavery, inasmuch as to limit slavery was to 
strangle it. Besides, the adoption of such a 
proviso would defeat the main purpose for 
which the war with Mexico had been begun and 
was being carried on. Hence, this fundamental 
proviso was the reddest rag that could have 
been waved in the face of the Southern bull, 
and that brave, belligerent creature responded 
to the tantalizing provocation with character- 
istic alacrity and resolution. 

After an inii)assioned and prolonged debate, 
the proviso was carried in the House of Repre- 
sentatives (1S4(J), but it was defeated in the 
Senate. The next year (1847) it was defeated 
in both Houses of Congress, after a desi)erate 
struggle. But althongh it was killed in Con- 
gress, it survived in the country. It was 
acrimoniously discussed and wrangled over in 
nearly every newspaper, in every school district, 
at every ])olitical meeting and every fireside. 



38 GREAT SENATORS. 

In fact, it may be said that the contest pro- 
voked by it was not ended until Eobert E. Lee 
surrendered to Ulysses S. Grant at Apponiatox 
Court House, on April 9th, 1S65, nineteen years 
after David Wilmot offered his little amend- 
ment to the three-million bill, in the House of 
Eepresentatives. 

The Wilmot Proviso came up in the 
national conventions of 1848. In May of that 
year, the Democratic Convention, at Baltimore, 
which nominated General Cass for the Presi- 
dency, trample.d on the Proviso (which was 
introduced by Preston King, of New York), and 
thereby offended many of the Northern, East- 
ern and Western delegates. In the Whig Con- 
vention, which met at Philadelphia, in June, 
a strong effort was made by the anti-slavery 
section of the party to nominate Henry Clay, 
who was in favor of the Proviso, although he 
was a Southerner and a slaveholder. But the 
friends of Clay were defeated. How and why 
they were defeated they did not know, and it is 



PLOTTING AGAINST CLAY. 39 

probable that the majority of them never knew. 
I was the official reporter of the Convention, 
knew several of the delegates intimately, and 
was frequently in the Committee rooms when 
the wires were in process of adjustment. A 
number of the delegates who were drawn into 
the movement against Clay had rooms at the 
Butler House, where I was then boarding, and 
we had repeated talks about the game that was 
going on. Hence the secret of Clay's defeat, 
and the means by which it was accomplished, 
became well known to me. 

I vividly remember the astonishment witli 
which I heard the supposed friends of Henry 
Clay talk about setting him aside because they 
had nothing to gain from his election. " His 
political affiliations have long been fixed,'' was 
the common remark ; "he is surrounded by 
friends of a lifetime, and we young men have 
nothing to ho])e from him." I was young, 
knew but little of politicians, and was so 
unfamiliar with their ways that I supposed 



40 GREAT SENATORS. 

men were nominated for the Presidency and 
elected to the Presidency on purely patriotic 
principles, and that the only motive by which 
public men were actuated was a good, old-fash- 
ioned love of country. 

It is, perhaps, needless to say that when I 
emerged from the seethiug turmoil and trickery 
of the Convention, my views of public men and 
their motives had undergone a change. I then 
for the first time realized the truth of what I 
had been taught by the Greek historian, that 
under the instigation of selfishness and the con- 
tentions of rivalry, men identify what is 
advantageous with what is honorable, and 
what is expedient with what is just, and while 
simulating sentiments of friendship, maintain 
an attitude of perfidious antagonism ; that the 
love of power, originating in avarice and ambi- 
tion, and the party spirit which is engendered 
by them when men are fairly embarked in a 
contest, render the tie of party stronger than the 
tie of patriotism or of religion ; the seal of good 



PLOTTING AGAINST CLAY. 41 

faith being not love of country, or the divine 
law, but fellowship in schemes of spoliation 
and self- aggrandisement. 

II. The movement that led to the defeat of 

Henky Clay. 

The movement which led to Clay's defeat 
was manipulated by four men, namely : William 
H. Seward and Thuilow Weed, of New York ; 
Thomas Butler King, of Georgia ; and Truman 
Smith, of Connecticut. There were many 
others in the game, but those four men did 
most of the subterranean work ; Thurlow Weed 
being both engineer and conductor of the under- 
ground political railroad. The motives which 
inspired Mr. Weed grew out of the political 
situation which, from a Whig stateman's point 
of view, was exceedingly critical. 

It is well known that the annexation of 
Texas and the Mexican war were brought about 
by the Democrats, under Southern lead, to 
strengthen their party by the extension of 



42 GREAT SENATORS. 

slavery, and ensure to it a perpetuity of political 
power. But, singularly enough, the result of 
the Mexican war had unexpectedly helped to 
rehabilitate the demoralized Whig party, because 
both of the great, victorious generals, Scott and 
Taylor, were Whigs. Both of these generals 
were talked of as candidates for the Presidency, 
and both were popular with the people. 

Taylor was universally popular as a hero, 
and a movement in favor of his nomination to 
the Presidency was started among the peo})le 
several months before the meeting of the Whig 
National Convention. This movement did not 
seem to be favored by the politicians. The 
Whig party had become largely anti-slavery in 
the North, and General Taylor was a slaveholder 
from the far South — from Louisiana, one of the 
bitterest of the slave States. The situation was 
so critical, and there was so slight a margin of 
success, that a majority of the party leaders 
felt that they could not afford to take any risk 
whatever. Therefore the betting was in favor 



A DEEP GAME. 43 

of Henry Clay's getting the nomination^ until 
the Democrats nominated General Cass. Then 
William H. Seward and Thurlow Weed saw 
their opi)ortunity, if fortune would only favor 
them. 

In order to understand the situation and 
comprehend why S<jward and Weed saw their 
op])ortunity in the nomination of General Cass 
by the Democrats, it must be borne in mind 
that the Democratic party of the North, as well 
as the Whig party of that section, had become 
leavened with anti-slavery sentiments. It must 
also be remembered that the^re was a bitter feud 
in tlie State of New York between the two 
sections of the Democratic party — the Barn- 
burners and the Old Hunkers. The Barnburn- 
ers were largely anti-slavery ; the Old Hunkers 
were bitterly pro-slavery. Seward and Weed 
foresaw that in any event there would be a ^ 
third party in the field in 1848, composed of out 
and out abolitionists and pronounced " Fi'ee- 
soilerSj" as the opponents of the extension of 



44 GREAT SENATORS. 

slavery into new territory were called. John 
P. Hale, the Free -soil Senator from New 
Hampshire, had already been suggested as the 
Presidential candidate of this third party — had, 
in fact, been nominated the year before (1847) 
by a convention held at Cleveland, Ohio. 

Seward and Weed knew there was great 
danger that, if the tliird-party movement were 
left to shape itself and come into the field with 
John P. Hale as its leader, enough Whigs would 
be drawn off by it in New England, New York, 
Pennsylvania and Ohio to give the election to 
the Democrats. They remembered that only 
four years before, the Liberty Party defection 
in New York, whose vote was cast mainly by 
anti-slavery Whigs, had given the Empire State 
to Polk and made him President of the United 
States. It was as clear as day to the two saga- 
cious Whig leaders that the only chance for the 
Whigs to win the Presidential election of 1848 
was to give this inevitable third-party move- 
ment a Democratic lead, and a Democratic 



GENERAL CASS. 45 

leader, so as, if possible, to draw off as many 
Democrats as Whigs from the regular tickets. 
If that could be done, then New England, New 
York, Pennsylvania and Ohio would be almost 
certain to give Whig majorities and render the 
election of the Whig candidate sure. And now 
the nomination of General Cass by the Demo- 
crats promised to give Seward and Weed their 
opportunity to turn the third-party movement 
into a vast Democratic rebellion and bolt. 

General Cass was a dull, phlegmatic, lym- 
phatic, lazy man. He had an unusually large 
l)rain, but it was so torpid that nothing but a 
powerful appeal to his selfishness or his vanity 
could arouse it into action ; and when it was 
aroused its activity was spasmodic and could 
not be counted upon for sustained energy. 
There was not a bit of chivalry in Cass's charac- 
ter, nor an atom of magnetism in his Jiature. 
Such a man, of course, could not fail to be 
destitute of the elements of leadership, and to 
be incapable of inspiring that personal popular- 



40 GREAT SENATORS. 

itj which counts for so much in great pohtical 
contests. 

The Democrats nominated Cass as a forlorn 
hope, and under an irresistible pressure of cir- 
cumstances. All through the Mexican war 
they had sought to develop a Democratic here* 
whose popularity could vie with that of the 
victorious Whig generals. But their efforts 
had been vain ; no Democratic hero was 
evoked ; and the party at last fell back in 
mingled despair and hope on General Cass, who 
enjoyed a nebulous sort of military fame that 
hung dimly on the fast receding horizon of the 
war of 1812. 

Cass's lack of personal popularity was not 
the only weight he had to carry. Although he 
did not possess qualities which win enthusiastic 
friends, he had those which sometimes make 
bitter enemies. Unfortunately for him, in 
1811, he confederated with Martin Van Buren's 
enemies to prevent '' New York's favorite son," 
as Van Buren was called, from getting the 



BARNBURNERS— OLD HUNKERS. 47 

Democratic nomination for the Presidency. 
Van Bui-en and his friends looked upon Cass's 
conduct as unpardonably treacherous, and 
naturally wished to resent it in an effectual 
manner. 

Van Buren's strength was greatest in the 
States pervaded by the anti slavery disaffec- 
tion. The Barnburners of New York were his 
partisans almost to a man, and his son Jolm 
(Prince John) was their pet orator. If by any 
means Martin Van Buren could be induced to 
accept the leadership of the third party, the 
defeat of Cass and the election of the Whig 
candidate would be assured. Thurlow Weed 
was all the more confident that this would be 
the result, because he had intimate knowledge 
of the envenomed exasperation which the 
friends of Silas Wright cherished against the 
supporters of General Cass. Silas Wright, one 
of the ablest men of his time, and one of the 
most popular men in the State of New York, 
had been a sort of political Siamese twin with 



48 GREAT SENATORS. 

Martin Van Buren, and it was believed by his 
friends that he had been pohtically assassinated 
by the Old Hunkers. His recent death — he 
died in August, ISiT — added intensity to the 
hatred which his multitude of mourners felt 
for his alleged political assassins, and if Van 
Buren could be brought into the field, all this 
hatred could be turned against Cass. 

But Seward and Weed knew if — (and this 
was a most momentous if) — if Hemy Clay 
should be the Whig candidate for the Presi- 
dency, that Van Buren would not come forward 
as the leader of the third party. Much as he 
wished for vengeance on Cass, he would not 
gratify his thirst for it by making Henry Clay, 
so long the enemy of General Jackson, Presi- 
dent of the United States. It was their pro- 
found conviction of this fact, and their belief 
that by proper management Van Buren could 
be brought to the front, which induced Seward 
and Weed to enter with all their skill and 



GENERAL TAYLOR. 49 

strength into a plan for defeating Clay and 
nominating Taylor. 

The disaffected Democrats had no ill-feeling 
towards General Taylor. They had hurrahed 
over his victories, and helped to celebrate his 
glory with as much enthusiasm as the Whigs 
had shown in the same cause. General Taylor 
had never crossed any })olitician's jiath, had 
never been a i)olitical })artisan, had, in fact, 
never voted at a i'resideiitial election. He and 
General Jackson had been friends ; and so 
Jackson's bosom friend. Van Buren, felt 
kindly towards liim, and would nuich rather 
see hini than Cass in the Presidential chaii-. 
Seward and Weed did not shut their eyes to the 
fact that the nomination of General Taylor 
would alienate many anti-slavery WJiigs ; but 
they knew that if the coming anti-slavery bolt, 
which they saw to be inevitable, could be made 
mainly a Democratic bolt, the loss sustained by 
the desertion of Whigs would be more than 
counterbalanced by the accession of Democrats 



50 GREAT SENATORS. 

to the bolters, especially in the State of New 
York, by whose vote the election would proba- 
bly be decided. 

III. Thurlow Weed — The secret of his 

POLITICAL power. 

General Cass was nominated at Baltimore, 
on Thursday, May 25th, The Whig conven- 
tion was to assemble at Philadel|diia on 
Wednesday, June 7th. So there was an inter- 
vening fortnight for Thurlow Weed and his 
co-adjutors to utilize the nomination of Cass for 
the purpose of securing the nomination of Tay- 
lor. And here it is expedient to say a few 
words about Thurlow Weed, in order that the 
secret of his political power may be understood. 

Many of Weed's contemporaries believed 
him to be unscrupulous ; they all acknowledged 
his ability. He was a man of such untiring- 
industry, and such invincible pertinacity, that 
no political trail could be long enough to tire 
him out, nor could his almost preternatural 



THUKLOW AVEED. ( ^^ 






sagacity be thrown off the scent, however iiii 
cate the trail might be. And this man con- 
trolled the Albany Evening Journal, which was 
one of the most powerful newspapers then [)ub- 
lislied in the State of New York. 

It should be remembered that the events we 
are narrating occurred in 1S4S, before the New 
York city press had attained its vast ciiculation 
and predominant influence. At that time, the 
New York Saii, altliough it had the largest cir- 
culation of any daily paper in the city, was a 
c()mi)aratively uninilumlial journal, chiefly 
devoted to advertisements. The Herald then 
had but a little over 10,000 circulation ; the Trl- 
hiuie had less than 8,000 ; not one of the other 
daily papers had a circulation of 5,000, and the 
Times and the 11 or/r/ were yet unborn. The 
Hudson River railroad was not then l)uilt ; the 
New York and New Haven railroad was not 
then built ; the Erie rOad was not yet built ; 
many other I'ailroads, now in connection with 
New York, had not then been projected. 



1 

^-"1 GREAT SENATORS. 

v^,vC3nce, during all that portion of the year when 
the navigation of the Hudson Eiver was closed 
by ice, New York was cut off from conimunica- 
tioUj except by stage, with the rest of the 
State. 

Albany, from its more central location, thus 
had a great advantage over New York in its 
communication with the State at lai*ge, espec- 
ially as there was a continuous line of railroads 
(since consolidated into the New York Central) 
running from the capital to Buffalo. And the 
Albany Evening Journal was an older ])aper 
than the Sun, the Herald, or the Tribune, it 
having been established in 1830, the Sun in 
1833, the Herald in 1835, and the Tribune in 
1841. Besides, the Albany Evening Journal 
was the State organ of the Whig party, and 
there was probably not a township in the State 
in which it hadn't a club of subscribers. From 
these facts it can readily be seen that the Even- 
ing Journal was a political power in those pro- 



ALBANY EVENING JOURNAL. 53 

vincial days. And Thuiiow Weed knew how 
to use this power to the greatest advantage. 

Perhaps some of the readers of these pages 
may remember that cohnnn in the Albany 
Journal, in which Weed used to make personal 
mention of his friends and his foes, in little 
paragraphs, varying from a line and a-half 
to a dozen or fifteen lines in length. That 
column was a prodigious power in the politics 
of the State of New York. There was sekh^m 
a yoinig man, in any part of the State, who 
gave promise of becoming a person of influence, 
tliat was not kindly and flatteringly mentioned 
in that cohnnn, no matter to what party he 
belonged. And does any one suppose that 
young men thus mentioned would not feel 
friendly to Thurlow Weed, and be ready to do 
him a personal favor ? 

Let us suppose that young Frog, of Frog 
Hollow, has been admitted to the bar, and 
begun to show talents for political leadership. 
He is a Democrat, and does not patronize the 



54 GREAT SENATORS. 

Albany Eve^mig Journal, but takes its Demo- 
cratic rival, the Albany Argus. Some morning 
his friends ask him if he has seen the last 
number of the Albany Journal. He sneeringly 
replies that he has not seen it ; that he does not 
wish to see it ; that he does not train with that 
crowd. His friends tell him that he had better 
see it, because it has something about himself 
in it. He calls on some Whig who takes the 
Journal, obtains a copy of the paper, and reads 
a paragraph somewhat like this : 

''We learn from friends in Frog Hollow 
that there is a young man coming forward in 
that part of the State of whom his fellow-citi- 
zens have just reason to be proud. We refer to 
Augustus Frog, Esq., the rising young lawyer. 
We knew Mr. Frog's grandfather when he was 
a member of the Legislature more than twenty 
years ago, and we had such a high personal 
regard for him as to make us regret that he 
was on the wrong side in politics." 

On reading this paragraph, Augustus Frog,' 



TIIURLOW WEED'S FRIENDS. 55 

Esq., the rising youDg lawyer, feels like playing 
a game of leapfrog. He borrows the Journal 
and rushes off with it to his sweetheart, to his 
parents, to his grandfather. The old grand- 
father's eyes sparkle as he I'eads the paragraph, 
and he says : '• Yes, I knew Weed when I was 
in the Legislature, and a right good fellow he 
was ; and smart, too, now I tell you. I hope 
you will go there some day, Augustus, and if 
you do, I'll give you a letter of introduction to 
Weed. He's the best man in Albany for a 
young fellow to know." 

In a few years Augustus Frog is elected to 
the Assembly on the Democratic ticket. His 
grandfather gives him the letter of introduction 
to Weed, and on its presentation he is received 
with paternal kindness and mad(i to feel as 
much at home as though he were in his grand- 
father's office. It is plain to be seen what the 
result of this will be. Mr. Weed's kindness, 
shown at a time when the young man feels the 



56 GREAT SENATORS. 

need of a frieud, sinks into the depths of his 
heart and brings forth fruit abundantly. 

When one multiphes this young Democratic 
Fi'og by scores and by hundreds, and adds all 
the Whig Frogs that had been hopping through 
the Legislature for eighteen years, he can form 
some idea of the number of influential friends 
that Thurlow Weed had in every part of the 
State in both of the great political parties. 
And, of course, Weed had the sagacity to use the 
tremendous power which this widely extended 
circle of personal friends gave him, in the most 
adroit and inoffensive manner. By dropping a 
few remarks here and a few remarks there in 
conversation, or by correspondence, in which 
his real purpose was concealed, he could set the 
minds of either Whigs or Democrats running 
in the way he wanted them to go, without 
exciting the least suspicion that he had any 
ulterior design in what he said or wrote. Or, 
if he chose to come out frankly with persons 
whom he wished to enlist directly in his 



WILLIAM IL SEWARD ^f 

schemes, he seldom, if ever, addressed his 
appeals for help to inhospitable ears. 

During the period which elapsed between 
the nomination of General Cass at Baltimore 
and the assembling of the Whig National Con- 
vention at Philadelphia, Weed was busily 
engaged in sympathizing with the enraged 
Barnbui-ners, and without seeming to meddle 
in their party affairs he helped to inflame their 
animosity against Cass to an irrestrainable 
degree. Seward was also skillfully at work in 
the same missionary line. 

IV. William H. Seward— How" He and Weed 

Worked Together. 
William H. Seward was one of the ablest 
and most sagacious men of his time. His 
inferior physique* and his incapacity for oratory 
prevented the people from perceiving the true 
measure of his intellectual greatness. If he 
had had the personal presence and the voice 
and delivery of Calhoun, Clay or Webster, he 



fl 



^8 GREAT SENATORS. 

would have rivalled them in oratorical power 
and impressed himself upon the minds and the 
imaginations of his countrymen as forcibly as 
they did. But owing to his physical deficiencies 
his gr(\at ahilities were known only to those 
wdio learned them by studying his writings or 
from personal intercourse with him. 

In matters of political management in the 
State of New York, Seward's sagacity was 
unerring and liis judgment well nigh infallible. 
He knew all the influential men in the State ; 
lie also knew the local leaders, and cultivated 
their friendship. He was particularly gracious 
to young men, and easily won their affection 
and their confidence. He did not nesilect men 
of influence, whatever their age ; but he was 
more attentive to the young than to the old, 
fully realizing that the old are constantly i)ass- 
ing off the stage, while the young are perpet- 
ually coming on. 

Seward had a keen perception of the political 
advantage which could be gained by utilizing 



WILLIAM II. SEWARD. 59 

religious beliefs and prejudices ; and by the 
adroit use of a felicitous phrase, embodying a 
pivotal and aggressive truth, and which could 
be used as a rhi^torical battle cry, he could draw 
large bodies of religionists and reformers into 
sympathy with his schemes without letting it 
be known what his ulterior motives or i)rojects 
were. In this subtle and far-reaching work 
S(!ward was unrivalled. He knew just wheii 
the fruit was ripe for his hand to pluck. No 
eagle ever poised over its prey with keener eye, 
or sw()()])(m1 upon its quarry with surer strok(^ 

In thes(} respects his sagacity and executive 
spontaneity approached the superhuman. It is 
dou])tful if there ever was a man who had more 
aptitude than Seward possessed for saying just 
exactly the right thing in just exactly the right 
way at just exactly -the right time and under 
just exactly the right circumstances. 

Seward's social qualities were a source of 
strength to him. He was attached to his friends 
and stood by them, and they were attached to 



I 

60 GREAT SENATORS 

and stood by him in return. He was eloquent 
and masterful in conversation and in intimate 
confidential correspondence, and could probably 
do more work in twenty- four ht)urs and keep at 
his work more continuously than any other man 
of his day, except Horace Greeley. Such capac- 
ity for work as he had, when directed by such 
sagacity as he possessed, is apt to make its way 
against any degree of talent or genius which is 
unsupported by plodding industry and assid- 
uous apphcation. 

Seward and Weed understood each other 
intimately, and worked together in perfect 
accord. What two such men could accomplish 
in a field which furnished them with lines of 
operation exactly fitted to their powers, and 
surrounded by circumstances in which they 
both delighted to put their powers forth, cau- 
not be told ; and it would be rash to limit 
their achievements by ordinary standards of 
measurement. In the political contest of ISiSj 
they knew just exactly what they must accom- 



>i.. 



BARNBURNER ^lEETING. 61 

plish in order to win, and they pursued their 
course with clear vision, fixed purpose and 
unfaltering steps. They subtly and success- 
fully drew their lines through and around the 
disaffected i3olitical elements in the State, and 
especially in the City of New York. They had 
the hearty co-operation of several of the leading 
Barnburners, who were so determined to wreak 
vengeance on General Cass and the Old Hunk- 
ers that they gladly availed themselves of any 
means which promised to gratify their desires. 

It was arranged to hold a public meeting of 
Barnburners, in the City Hall Park, to express 
their indignation at the manner in which their 
delegates had been treated at the Baltimore 
Convention. The day on which this meeting 
sliould be held was of great importance to 
Seward and Weed, and with the aid of their 
Barnburner friends that matter was easily 
arranged. The meeting was called for the 
afternoon of June (Uh, tlie day before the Whig 
Convention was to assemble in Philadelphia. 



62 GREAT SENATORS. 

On the forenoon of that day there was a meet- 
ing at the Astor House of Whig delegates from 
N-ew England, New York, and the Western 
States. This meeting had been brought about 
in a seemingly accidental way by Weed. He 
had been in correspondence with such delegates 
as he thought it prudent to manipulate, and 
suggested to them individually that if they 
would stop over a day in New York, on their 
way to Philadelphia, "' it would be advantage- 
ous to the interests of the party." Weed's cor- 
respondents told their colleagues that they were 
going to stop over a day in New York ; the col- 
leagues, of course, wanted to stop over with 
them ; and the result was that the Astor House 
meeting was largely attended. But little was 
done at this meeting, its object being, as Weed 
said, " to have a friendly interchange of views, 
with an eye to promoting harmony in the con- 
vention and securing the ultimate success of the 
party." But for unsuspecting delegates to 
"interchange views " with Thurlow Weed, on 



baiixbl'k>;ek meeting. 63 

such ail occasion, was pretty sure to eud in a 
change of views on the part of the unsuspect- 
ing delegates. 

The chief object in having the delegates stop 
over in Xew York on that day, was that they 
niiglit witness the Barnburner meeting in the 
afternoon. That meeting was one of the largest 
and most enthusiastic that had ever been held 
in the city. The names of the committee of 
Barnburner delegates to the Baltimore conven- 
tion, who made the delegates' I'eport to the meet- 
hig, will be read with interest. They were 
names wliich, in those days, were always re- 
ceived witli hurrahs in Democratic meetings. 
They were Churchill C. Cambreling, John A. 
Kennedy, Rol)ert H. Maclav, William F. Have- 
meyer and Samuel J. Tilden. The report of the 
committee was outs[)oken and inflammatory. 
It told the vast multitude of exasperated Barn- 
burners that their delegates to the Baltimore 
convention had been insulted and disfranchised, 
and it called upon the people to rebuke the per- 



6B GRExVT SENATORS. 

with the crowds, took note of what v,^as occur- 
ring, and wei'e of course unspeakably anxious to 
turn all this Democratic disaffection to the 
advantage of the Whig party ; and William H. 
Seward and Thurlow Weed devoted themselves 
to showing the delegates how their wishes could 
be orratified. 

They delicately felt the opinions of the dele- 
gates and caressed their way into their private 
predilections and personal prejudices. They 
found that the preference for Clay was in the ; 
ascendant, that General Scott was tbe second 
choice of many delegates, and that Webster was 
the favorite of the New Englanders. There did 
not seem to be any enthusiasm for General 
Taylor. Ohio was strenuously opposed to him, 
and nearly solid for Scott. New England's first 
choice was Webster, and her second was Clay. 
New York was for Clay, with a leaning to 
Scott. Things looked unequivocally ominous 
for the Taylor movement. Seward and Weed 
took, and instructed their lieutenants to take a 



SEWARD AND WEED. 07 

gloomy view of the Whig cause. The antici- 
pated Free- soil bolt, with John P. Hale at its 
head, was magnified into a political bugaboo. 
Hale must be headed off, or the Whigs were 
doomed. If the Barnburners could only be 
pushed on to take the lead in the Free-soil bolt 
and nominate an influential Democrat — perhaps 
Martin Van Buren — for their candidate, the 
situation would be radically changed, and the 
success of the Whig nominee would be rendered 
almost sure. But the course of the Barnburners 
w^ould be largely influenced by the proceedings 
of the Whig Convention. If it should put for- 
ward a candidate who was obnoxious to Van 
Biiren and his fi-iends, they wonld not help 
elect him by bolting. On the other hand, if the 
Whigs should nominate a candidate who would 
not be personally objectionable to Van Buren and 
his fiiends, the piol)ability was that the Barn- 
burners would organize an independent move- 
ment, with Van Buren for their leader. Should 
they do tliis, the Empire State would certainly 



G8 GREAT SENATORS. 

be carried by the Whigs, and tliat would doubt- 
less give them a majority of the electoral votes, 
and ensure the election of the Whig candidate. 
With such ideas were the minds of the Whio- 
delegates inseminated. 

V. The Whig National Convention of 1848. 
How Clay was defeated and Taylor 

NOMINATED. 

The next morning (June Tth) in Philadel- 
phia, it was found that Pennsylvania's first 
choice was Clay, and her second Taylor ; also, 
that Taylor was strong in the South and South- 
west. It was evident that Clay's popularity 
was so great that, if the managers of his can- 
vass evinced a high degree of skill, it would be 
very difficult, if not impossible, to defeat him. 
But Clay was unfortunate in his friends. They 
were enthusiastic and boastful, and felt so sure 
of success that they neglected the means of 
securing it. On the other hand, the leaders of 
the Taylor movement worked with strenuous 



LAYING OUT THE WORK. GD 

energy and suri)assiiig skill. Truman Smith 
took charge of the New Engkiud delegations. 
Thoiiias Bullei- King, assisted hy a large nuni- 
her of trusty assistants, worked among the 
delegates from tlie South. Pennsylvania and 
Ohio were left in the liands of influential citi- 
zens of their own, who hest knew how to work 
ui)()ii their delegates. Weed took especial 
charge of the New York delegation. In fact, 
every delegation was skillfully handled. As 
Ohio could not he i)rought into line for Taylor, 
lun- delegates were encouraged to stand hy Gen- 
cM-al Scott, under the helief that the Convention 
would finally fall hack on him as a compromise 
candidate. Delegates from New York and 
other States, who felt that they were committed 
au'.iinst Tavlor, were induced to vote for Scott. 
New England men, who could not he won over 
to Taylor, w(H'e encouraged to stand hy Web- 
ster to the last. The younger delegates from 
all (piarters of the Union were indoctrinated 
with the idea (heretofore mentioned) that if 



70 GREAT SENATORS. 

Clay should be elected President, they could not 
hope for political preferment, as he would 
bestow all his patronage upon his old friends 
with whom he had been aftihated for scores of 
years. The only way for them to gain anything 
by the trnimph of the Whig i)arty was to elect 
a President who had no fixed relations Avith 
anybody, so that everyone would havo an equal 
chance. In this way, Clay's strength was 
insidiously undermined, while his friends were ' 
singing Clay songs and hurrahing over his 
anticipated triumph. Exliilaiated by their own 
enthusiasm, they saw everything in the illusive 
light of unreflecting hoi)e ; inflated with arro 
gant confidence, they fatuously derided the 
monitions of prudence, and peremptoiily 
rebuffed incitatiojis to vigilance. 

The Convention was organized on Wednes- 
day, June Tth. John M. Morehead, of North 
Carolina, Avas elected permanent President of 
the Convention. This was thought to be a tri- 
uaiph for Clay, and made his friends feel still 



CALLING THE ROLL. 71 

more sure of liis nomination. The first day 
of the Convention was devoted to pieliniinary 
and rontine work, l)nt it was nnderstood that 
the l)alloting for a canchdale would be called on 
carlv on Thursday moniinij:. It was arrano-ed 
lliat in balloting, tlie roll of members should be 
called by States in their al[)habetical order ; the 
name of the chaiiin;in of a State delegation to 
be called first, and the niuK^s of liis colleagues 
1(> follow in alpli.ibetical (H(ler. ( )n the surface, 
this .•i[>|)eared to be a matter- of insignificant 
det.'iil ; but when il is it'inembered that, as there 
was then no Stat(» of California or Colorado, 
Connecticut would come thiid on tlu^ list, and 
b(? the first Northern State called, and that 
Truman Snu'th was chaiiiiian of the Connecti- 
cut delegation, the intelligent reader may be 
able to s<'e that th(^ manner of calling the roll 
was by no means an insignificant matter. 

When the Convention assembled on Tliurs- 
day moi'iiing, in the great hall of the old 
Chinese Museum, th*^ friends of Clay Inu-ried on 



72 GREAT SENATORS. 

the balloting, feeling sure that their favorite 
would lead the poll, and the most sanguine of 
them offered to bet that he would be nominated 
on the first ballot. But as the voting went on, 
a great silence fell on the vast concourse. 
Delegates who had been counted on for Clay, 
voted for Taylor, and others voted for Scott. 
The wily Truman Smith voted for Clay, and 
so did his five colleagues. The time had not 
come for him to show his hand. But New 
England gave Clay only 16 votes, while she 
gave Webster 21 and Taylor 6. New York 
gave Webster 1, John M. Clayton 1, Scott 5, 
and Clay 29. Pennsylvania gave Clay 12, 
Taylor 8, Scott 6. All this was a surprise to 
the friends of Clay, but Ohio fairly stunned 
them. She gave Clay but one vote. She also 
gave Taylor 1, and Judge McLean 1, and all 
the rest — 20 of them — were given to Scott. As 
these developments went on, cries of " Treach- 
ery !" were heard in diffei-ent imrts of the hall, 
and the Clay men hissed some of the luore 



HISSING THE TRAITORS. 73 

prominent ot" tlie alleged traitors. Almost 
everybody had kt^pt tally, but the official 
announcement of the vote was awaited with 
hreathless eagerness. "Amid a silence that 
could he heard," as Haskell, of Tennessee, said, 
the secretary read the result : Webster 22, 
Scott 4:^>, Clay t>7, Taylor HI. Another ballot 
was called for, and after nuich delay it was 
taken. The Clay men had lal)ored with their 
deserters, and hoped for a better result on the 
second ballot. l>ut they were doomed to disa])- 
pointment ; when the vote was announced it 
was found that Webster had held his 22 votes, 
that Scott had gone up from 4:5 to 40, that 
Taylor had gone from 111 to lis, and that 
Clay had sunk from l»T to S(;. Truman Smith 
and his five colleagues had again voted for Clay, 
and the staunclmess of the Connecticut delega- 
tion gave a basis for hope to Clay's friends, who 
now moved an adjournment, lest Taylor should 
he noniinate4 on a third ballot. The friends of 
Webstei', and the Ohio delegation supported the 



<i GREAT tSENATOHS. 

iiiuLiuii to atljouiii, and it was carried, amid 
great exeitemeiit. 

During the interval, between the adjourn- 
ment of the Convention and its ieassembh"no- 
the next morning, the friends of Clay e.\liil)ited 
himentable lack of tact and judgment. Instead 
of trying to win back the deserters by piciper 
appeals and arguments, they vehemently 
assailed them, and wounded their self-love by 
vitui)erative denunciation. Taylor's friends, on 
the other hand, talked only of the controlling 
interests of the Whig party and the welfaie of 
the country. They didn't care paiticularlv for 
any particular individual. All they wanted was 
a candidate with whom they could win, and 
thus benefit the country at large while promot- 
ing the Avelfare of the party. At anv rate, 
c^very delegate had a right to his own opinion, 
and to vote for Avliomsoever he believed to be 
the best man to beai- the Whig standard in the 
coming close and desperate fight. What they 



THE Tiniil) HALLOT. 75 

admired in a delegate, above all otliei- qualities, 
was independence of thought and manliness in 
action. 

Sucli talk was dcliciously soothing to the 
(h'legates whom Clay's friends were anathema- 
tising, and k«'[)t them securely in line for 
Tayloi', for wiioin ihey would either vote 
diiectly, or help uidirectly by voting for 
Webster or Scott. It did more ; it made them 
paitisans against CJay, and set sonn' of thcin at 
work t(j l)ring their c(jil( 'agues into coalescence 
w ith themselves. 

When the Convention met on Friday morn- 
ing I he feeling of ai)[>rehension and expectation 
was so intense that men spoke in hushed voices 
and walked on tii)toe. As soon as the prelim- 
inary routine could ]>e got tlnough with, a 
motion was made; that the Convention ])roceed 
to a tiiird liallot for a candidate for the Presi- 
dency. The motion was carried by a unanimous 
vote, but the **aye" was given in such 
suppressed tones that its effect was like that of 



76 GREAT SENATORS. 

the pianissimo of a grand orcliestra. The roll 
call began and proceeded through the lists of 
delegates from Alabama and Arkansas in deep 
silence. Next came Connecticut, which, under 
the lead of Truman Smith, had voled sohd for 
Clay on the two previous ballots. Eumors had 
circulated during the morning that Smith had 
gone over to Taylor, and now, when his name 
was about to be called, the excitement, though 
subdued, was intense. Smith's smooth -shaveu, 
pink and white face rises before me as I write, 
and it seems as though I could hear his voice as 
I heard it forty-one years ago, when, in answer 
to the call of his name, he responded in clear, 
penetrating tones : '' Zachary Taylor." That 
vote sounded the knell of Henry Clay. The 
Taylor men had all got ready for this signal, 
and when it was given, they burst out with 
repeated cheers and nearly stampeded the 
Conventioii. 

When the result of the ballot was announced, 
and it was known that General Taylor had 



GREELET AND WEBB. 77 

received 133 votes and Henry Clay only 74, a 
scene of the stormiest confusion ensued. Some 
of the delegates cheered till they were exhausted. 
Others leaped upon seats and chairs and yelled 
themselves hoarse in trying to get a hearing. 
Horace Greeley, who was wild for Clay, and 
General James Watson Webb, who was equally 
wild for Taylor, ran back and forth between 
the reporters' table and the ])latform, shouting 
and gesticulating like madmen ; Webb, with 
his hat on the back of his head and his coat- 
tails flapping in tlie breeze which he occasioned, 
and Greeley with th.e knot of his necktie under 
his left ear and the ends floating over his 
shoulder. Every one foresaw the result of the 
]U)xt ballot, and when it was taken, and Gen- 
eral Taylor was declared nominated— (he getting 
ITL votes, and Clay only 32, while Scott's had 
run up to G3) the excitement was not increased, 
but had somewhat diminished. 

As soon as the confusion had subsided, 
ilelegates all thioiigh the hall began to vocifer- 



78 GREAT SENATORS. 

ate charges of treachery. The Ohio delegation 
was exceedingly bitter and exasperated. It 
had given Taylor aiid Clay only one vote a- 
piece, and after the first ballot had plnmped 21 
votes for Scott, every time, under the hire that 
he was the "dark horse" of the convention, 
who would eventually win the race. But now 
they saw that they had been hoodwinked, and 
were furious at the discovery. Several of them 
made violent speeches, and swore, with uplifted 
hand, that, so help them God, they would go 
liome and do all they could to defeat the nom- 
iuation. Delegates from Maine, New Hami)- 
shire and Massachusetts did hkewise. At first, 
these demonstrations wei'o received by tlie 
victors with derisive laughter. But after a 
while it becaiue apparent that the disaffection 
was no laughing matter. Pennsylvania and 
New York delegates began to join in the clamor's 
of indignation. The Taylor men became 
alarmed and sought to placate their irate 



THE VICTORS ALARMED. TO 

opponents. But their efforts at pacification 
were futile. 

In the midst of the turmoil a motion was 
made to proceed to the nomination of n 
candidate for the Yice-Presid^ncy. The motion 
was declared carried, and delegates were 
lequested to name their candidates. This 
hrouLiht tlie Convention to order. Hurried 
consultations were held hy the Taylor meu, 
who hoped to conciliate the disaffected delegates 
hy giving them a candidate for Vice-President 
wlio should he a man after their own hearts, 
it had huen arranged that Ahhot Lawrence, of 
Massachusetts, should he the candidate for 
Vice President, and it was understood that if he 
j-ot the nomination he would contrihute one 
liundred thousand dollars to the campaign fund. 
But the impassioned indignation of the anti- 
slavery portion of the Convention at the nom- 
ination of Taylor, so alarmed the generars 
suppoi-ters, that they did not dare to carry out 
that arrangement. It was seen that something 



80 GREAT SENATORS. 

very decided must be done to pacificate the 
an ti- slavery disaffection, or there would be a 
fatal bolt. Abbot Lawrence was not enough of 
an abolitionist to satisfy the disaffected ones. 
Who would satisfy, them ? was now the ques- 
tion. Of all the names mentioned for the Vice- 
Presidency, that of Millard Fillmore, who was 
an anti -slavery man of pronounced type, had 
most promise in it. Just at the right moment, 
Mr. Morril, one of Fillmore's friends from 
western New York, leaped upon a bench and 
cried: "Give us Millard Fillmore, and we 
promise you the vote of New York !" 

This declaration w^as received with cheers, 
and Fillmore was nominated. And so a ticket 
was provided which it w^as supposed could walk 
over the country from East to West, with its 
pro-slavery foot in the South and its anti slavery 
foot in the North, witliout danger that either 
foot would get mired. But the Convention 
adjourned amidst an atmos|)here of despondency 
and gloom. The bittei-ness of the Clay men 



GREELEY'S DISAPPOINTMENT. 81 

was SO intense that they threatened the ticket 
with defeat and the hopes of the Whig party with 
annihilation. A premonition of coming defeat 
seemed to weigh upon the spirits of the delegates. 

In the evening, after the adjournment of the 
Convention, I was in the office of the Philadel- 
phia North American, writing out my report. 
The Hon. ^Jorton McMichael, the editor of the 
North American (who was a gentleman of 
nmch social mfluence and great political 
sagacity), was talking over the situation with 
several delegates (Tajlor men) from the South 
west, when who should come tramping into 
the office, carpet bag in hand, but Horace 
Greeley. On seeing who were present, Greeley 
scowled upon them, turned around, and started 
lor the door. 

"Where are you going, Mr. Greeley?" 
Mc]\Iichael coui'teously asked. 

"I'm going home," snarled Greeley. 

"But there's no train to-night," McMichael 

suggested. 



82 GREAT SENATORS. 

"I doirt want any train," Greeley snapped 
out ; ''I'm going across New Jersey, afoot and 
alone !" And away he went. 

As I withdrew my gaze frojn Greeley's 
retreating form, it fell upon a dark young man 
of small stature, with a large and fine head, 
who was standing at the foot of the table at 
which I sat. He had been watching Greeley, 
and his countenance was convulsed with scorn 
and detestation, somewhat relieved by a sinister 
gleam of triumph. He soon left the office, and 
I said to McMichael, "How that man hates 
Greeley ! Who is he ?" 

''I thought you knew him," McMichael 
answered. " He is a fellow-townsman of yours. 
He is Henry J. Raymond, the reasoning (editor 
of the New York Courier and Enquirer. Gree- 
ley will never forgive him and Colonel Webb 
for the part they played in the defeat of Clay." 
Greeley did not foi-give them ; and there 
were many things for which they didn't forgive 



NO ENTHUSIASM. 83 

Greeley ; and the personal animosities of those 
three eminent journalists helped to kill the 
Wliig party, which gave its last national gasp 
four years afterwards, in 1852. 

On the evening of the day after the adjourn- 
uKMit of the Convention, the Whigs of Philadel- 
phia, who were nearly all idolatrous worshipers 
of Clay, held a ^' Grand Mass Meeting" at the 
Musical Fund Hall, to ratify the noiiunalions. 
I was present to report the proceedings for the 
North American. The nieciting was not at all 
''Grand"; it was the most lngTd)rious politi- 
cal festivity at which I ever assisted. Hardly 
anything was heard from the sp^^akers but jere- 
miads over Clay. The address of Mayor Swift, 
who presided over the meeting, was almost 
entirely devoted to expressions of grief on 
Clay's behalf. He was so overcome by his feel 
ings tliat he spoke with whimsical incoherency. 
After a time he put his right foot upon the seat 
of a chair before him, leaned his elbow upon his 
knee, dropped his face in his hand, and sobbed 



84 GRE.VT SENATORS. 

aloud. He stood in this position till the audi- 
ence grew nervous. On recovering somewhat 
fj'om his emotion, he said — still keeping his 
attitude, with his face in his hand : 

"Permit me, my friends, while bowing to 
the decrees of fate and the decisions of the Con- 
vention, to keep one little corner of my heart 
green in friendship for him wdiom I hoped to 
have for a leader in this campaign— one little 
green spot on which I can rear a monument to 
his memory which shall reach to the clouds, and 
whose summit I can water with my tears as I 
kneel in sorrow at its base." 

'' For God's sake, Dyer, take care of the old 
man's rhetoric !" whispered McMichael, w^ho 
sat immediately behind me. I suppose the 
gifted editor did not see how the good old man, 
while kneeling at the base of a monument that 
reached the clouds, could at the same time 
w^ater its summit with his tears. 

The character of this " Grand Ratification 
Meeting" indicates what the state of affairs was 



WIDESPREAD DISAFFECTION. 85 

in the Whig city of Pliiladeli)hia, where the Con- 
vention was held. When the work of the cam- 
paign was hegun, it soon became evident that 
the ticket was not popular anywhere in the 
North, East or West. The repugnance of the 
anti slavery Whigs to Taylor, could not be 
overcome ; the indignation of the friends of 
Clay could not be ai)peased. The widespread 
disaffection gave greaft momentum to the Free- 
soil movement, which grew so rapidly the Whig 
leaders saw that their only hope of success lay 
in getting the Bainburners to take the lead of 
the movement and bring Van Buren into the 
field as its candidate. The Barnburners held a 
Convention at Utica and nominated Van Buren, 
but he peremptorily declined the honor. His 
declination was a severe disai)pointment to the 
Barnburnei's, and left them all at sea ; but it 
did not disappoint or discourage Seward and 
Weed. They knew Martin Van Buren through 
and thiougli, and believed that if the opportun- 
ity to avenge liimself upon Cass and the South- 



80 GREAT SENATORS. 

ern Democrats were offered to him, under cir- 
cumstances which he considered worthy of his 
own position and dignity, he would embrace it, 
beyond all peradventure. 

Yl. Martin Van Buren. 

Martin Van Buren was a greater and a better 
man than his countrymen have ever supposed 
him to have been. Superiority was stamped 
upon every lineament of his countenance. I 
met him and Clay on the same evening, at a 
Wistar party (so called after Dr. Wistar), in 
Philadelphia, in March, ISiS. The opportunity 
thus presented for studying, comparing and 
contrasting those two men was inexpressibly 
gratifying to me. I was a student of phreno- 
logy, and I brought all my knowledge of that 
subject into play on that occasion. It was the 
first time I had seen Van Buren ; Clav I had 
met before. Being of Whig lineage, I had from 
boyhood been taught to distrust and dislike Van 
Buren and to believe in and admire Clay. The 



VAN • BUKEN AND CLAY. 87 

first thing which struck me, as I studied the two 
men, was Van Buren's evident supeiiority in 
intellectual power. This was a disappointment, 
and almost a shock to me. I could not bear to 
think that this '5 tricky Democrat " could be in 
any wise superior to ''glorious Harry of the 
West." On further study of the men, I was 
comforted by the conviction that Clay possessed 
the more eagle-like qualities, and that in public 
debate and personal intellectual encounters Van 
Bur(?n would be no match for him. But I could 
not divest myself of the impression that in a 
contest carried on in writing, where personal 
magnetism and oratorial powers could not be 
brought into l)lcn', Clay would be no match for 
Van Buren. Clay's manner was the more 
instantaneously captivating ; but as the minutes 
glided by. Van Buren constantly won upon the 
favor of the company, and before he took his 
leave he had gained a powerful hold upon their 
respect and admiration. To me, his conversa- 
tion, his gracefulness, his elegance, his perfect 



8S GREAT SENATORS. 

equipoise, his exquisite courtesy, his intellectual 
grip on every subject he touched, were a revela- 
tion that filled me with wondei- and delight. 

I afterwards studied up Van Buren's history 
and made a^^ thorough an analysis of his char- 
acter as my o])portunities permitted. Phi'cno- 
logically speaking, his affectional and propel- 
ling organs were markedly developed. Love of 
home and family and friends was strong iu him. 
His conibativeness, destructiveness, caution and 
secretiveness were all very large. This gave 
him great energy and industry, with perfect 
mental and emotional equipoise and absolute 
self possession under all circumstances. His 
firmness, self-esteem, appiobativeness and hope 
were large, giving him dignity and courtesy of 
demeanor, strength of purpose and elasticity 
of spirits. He was never long despondent under 
adversity. His moral organs were well de- 
veloped, but his spiritual or religious faculties 
were weak ; and hence, while he was distin- 
guished for uprightness of chciracter and jDurity 



.MAKTIX VAN BUREN. 8^ 

of life, he was devoid of enthusiasm and desti- 
tute of emotional fervor. His intellectual facul- 
ties were massive and active. His brain was 
laige in every way — rather too large for his 
l)ody. His organ of language, though fairly 
developed, was not large ; and this defect, en- 
lianced by his lack of warmtli and enthusiasm, 
prevented him from taking high rank as an 
orator. But he was a clear and powerful 
reasoner, and was adioit in presenting his cause 
witli all its strong points foremost. 

Under his i)lacid demeanor, Van Buren 
could cherish a vehement desire to inflict what 
theologians call "punitive justice" on his foes, 
and was cajjable of pursuing a purpose with 
tenacious determination wiien his feelings were 
deeply enlisted in his own behalf. He was proud 
and sensitive ; and liis pi'ide and sensibility 
had been deeply wounded by his treatment by 
the Democratic party, and especially by what he 
believed to be the deliberate treachery of Gen - 
oral Cass. He was naturallvon the side of Free- 



1)0 GREAT SENATORS. 

soil. He was in favor of the Wilmot Proviso. 
He had long chafed under the lead of Southern 
statesmen, to which his affiliations with the 
Democratic party had compelled him to suhmit. 
How aggravating that Southern lead w^as to 
high-minded Northern statesmen, it is impossible 
for people of this generation to imagine. All 
that the South had to do to concentrate its 
entire influence against a Northern man was to 
whisper that he was hostile to slavery. If he 
wavered a single jot or tittle in his allegiance to 
the "peculiar institution," he was at once os- 
tracised. These tactics were brought into piny 
early in the history of our government. Web- 
ster, in his reply to Hayne, away back in 1830, 
pointedly alluded to this practice. "I know full 
well," he said, "that it is, and has been, the 
settled policy of some persons in the South, for 
yeai's, to represent the people of the North as 
disposed to interfere with them in their own 
exclusive and peculiar concerns. This is a deli- 
cate and sensitive point in Southern feeling ; and 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 91 

of late years it has always been touched, and 
generally with effect, whenever the object has 
been to unite the whole South against Northern 
men and Northern measures. This feeling, 
always carefully kept ahVe, and maintained at 
too intense a heat to admit discrimination or 
reflection, is a lever of great power in our politi- 
cal machine." 

The South did not attempt any disguise or 
concealment in this matter. Southern leaders 
made no secret of their tyi'annical insistence. 
On the contrary, they gloried in it ; and dotibt-^ 
less, such of their descendants as shall read this 
narrative, will indulge hi smiles of grim satisfac- 
tion and pride, on being reminded how, by 
means of such speedy and invincible concentra- 
tion of Southern sentiment, their honored and 
beloved predecessors always compelled their 
Northern allies to lick the dust of humiliation. 

In addition to other i-easons, the implacable 
hatred of Van Buren by John C Calhoun and 
his friends (wliich will be accounted for when 



09 GREAT SENATORS. 



t/ ^ 



we come to the delineation of Calhoun's char 
acter), had helped to make " New York's favor- 
ite son " feel his galling yoke of political servitude 
in all its bitterness. And now, the Democratic 
party, undei' the lead of the South, had insult- 
ingly cast him aside, and given its leadership to 
the man wlio had so cruelly betrayed him. Van 
Buren was in the GGth year of his age, and 
CDuld not hope for any futuie political prefei-- 
ment. But he could throw off his political 
chains and strike an avenging and deadly blow 
at the false fiiend who had betj'ayed him, and 
at the party which had humiliated him. Was it 
in human nature for "a frail human brother"— 
to speak after the manner of good men — 
to forego such an oj^poitunity for vengeance ? 
Seward and Weed knew it was not ; they 
understood the passions which were seething in 
Van Buren's soul, and took steps to utilize them 
for the defeat of Cass and the election of Taylor. 
They unobtrusively formed an alliance with 
Benjamin F. Butler, a distinguished lawyer in. 



FREE SOIL CONVENTION. 93 

the city of New York, who was a leader in the 
Democratic party, and Van Bureii'y most inti- 
mate and trusted friend. Butler had been a pet 
ixnd jJi'otege ol Van Buren's from his boyhood. 
He stu(h(3d law in Van Buren's office at Kinder- 
hook, and became his law jjartner at the age of 
twa^ntv-two. Durin<2: the last vear of Van 
Buren's presidency, Butler was his acting Secre- 
tary of War ; and from the day that Van Buren 

left the White House, on March 4th, 1841, Butler 
had been devoted to him both politically and 
personally. He keenly felt what he believed to 
be the wrongs of his beloved chief, and burned 
to avenge them upon his foes. 

VII. The Free-soil National Convention at 

Buffalo. 

Butler had reason for believing that 
although Van Biu'en would not demean himself 
by leading a mere faction fight in the State of 
New York, he would not refuse to place him- 
self at the head of a great national movement, 



94 GREAT SENA rORS. 

and a great national movement had been deter- 
mined upon. A call was issued for a National 
Convention of all those who were opposed to the 
extension of slavery into the new Territories, to 
meet at Buffalo, on the 9th day of August. All 
the States were invited to send delegates to the 
Convention, to nominate Free soil candidates 
for the Presidency and Vice Presidency. This 
movement received the enthusiastic support of 
the disaffected anti-slavery men in both parties, 
and also of the old line abolitionists. The Con- 
vention was attended by all the anti slavery 
magnates (except those who belonged to the 
extreme Garrison ian wing) and by thousands of 
the rank and file. There was a sprinkling of 
delegates from Delaware, Maryland and Vir- 
ginia ; and one of the Virginia delegates electri- 
fied the Convention by announcing that he was 
''from the south of Mason's and Dickenson^ s 
line." I was in attendance to report the pro- 
ceedings of the Convention for publication in 
pamphlet form. 



HALE'S POPULARITY. 95 

When the Convention got under way, it was 
discovered that the preference for John P. Hale 
as tlie candidate of the party was strongly pre- 
dominant and seemingly irresistible. To make 
matters worse, Van Buren coquetted with the 
Convention, and sent his friends a letter, in 
which he reminded them of liis refusal to accept 
the nomination which was tendered to him at 
Utica in June, and strongly hinted that it would 
not be agreeable for liim to be compelled to 
refuse another nomination. He put it deli- 
cately, and also adroitly, in these words : 

''You know, fiom my letter to the Utica 
convention, and the confidence you repose in 
ray sincerity, how greatly the proceedings of 
that body, in relation to myself, were opposed 
to my earnest wishes." 

This letter was received as conclusive by the 
friends of John P. Hale. They considered his 
nomination as good as made ; and in their blind 
confidence, they made the same mistake which 
the friends of Clay had made two months 



96 GREAT SENATORS. 

before at Philadelphia. They hurrahed, made 
speeches — fiery, eloquent, excellent speeches — 
and seemed to be having everything their own 
way. Meanwhile, Seward, Weed and Butler, 
who read Van Buren's letter with a native 
sagacity of perception which their own long 
practice in writing similar letters had sharpened 
to an almost preternatural keenness, were 
effectively working to head off Hale and bring 
Van Buren to the front. Seward and Weed, of 
course, worked secretly ; Butler openly. They 
knew that the proceedings of "" that body "—the 
Utica convention, which represented only a sec- 
tion of a pai-ty in a single State, was quite a 
different thing, in Van Buren's estimation, 
from the proceedings of a great National Con- 
vention under the control of some of the most 
conspicuous and influential men in the country. 
It being certain that if the Convention 
should come to an early vote, Hale would be 
nominated, a good deal of preliminary business 
was introduced, and opportunity was given to 



DEEP iMANAGEMENf. 07 

every ardent orator to orate as long as he 
pleased. When the names of candidates were 
proposed, Hon. Henry Dodge, U. S. Senator 
from Wisconsin, who was a highly respected 
Free-soiler, was put forward as the opponent of 
Hale. Dodge was very popular in the West, 
and his name was greeted with such enthu- 
siasm, it seemed as though he would carry off 
tlie prize. Charles Francis Adams was also 
named as a candidate for the Presidency, and 
his name was received with such hearty cheers 
that the Hale men were bewildered. A mes- 
sage soon came from Senator Dodge, requesting 
his friends to withdraw his name, and assign- 
ing ill health as a reason why it would be 
impossible foi him to accept the burdens of the 
candidacy. It was then proposed— the idea 
being started by the secret friends of Van 
Buren — that Hale should be nominated for the 
Presidency and Dodge for the Vice-Presidency. 
Tins proposition was opposed by the friends of 
Adams. It w\as also opposed by the avowed 



98 GREAT SENATORS. 

friends of Van Bnren, who were seeking to gain 
time, perplex counsel, weary patience, and get 
the Convention into such a frame of mind as 
would lead to the adoption of their plan when 
it should be presented. After a while, another 
communication was received from Senator 
Dodge, refusing to allow his name to be pre- 
sented to the Convention for any purpose what- 
ever. This was a set back to the friends of 
Hale and helped to comphcate still more the 
already confused state of things. 

And now, when everything seemed to be at 
cross-purposes, the friends of Van Buren played 
their winning card. It was proposed, in order 
to simphfy matters, and maintain that har- 
mony which should characterize the dehbera- 
tions of freemen met to carry out a great and 
holy cause, that a committee on nominations 
shoukl be appointed, who coukl consult calmly 
and quietly upon the situation, come to definite 
conclusions, and report the same to the Conven- 
tion, for its approval or rejection, as the case 



BUTLER'S SKILL. 99 

might be. This proposition was adopted, and 
the committee on nominations was appointed. 
What the views of a majority of that conmiittee 
were, it is easy to imagine, when it is remem- 
bered that Butler and his helpers knew just 
exactly what they were about, and that the 
friends of Hale were taken unawares by the 
proposition. The committee went into secret 
session. Butler was a member of it, and so 
was Salmon P. Chase, the President of the 
Convention, wlio u[) to that time had been a 
Van Buren Democrat, and who didn't like Hale 
nearly as well as he Hked Chase. 

Butler soon took tlie lead in the committee. 
He had made elaborate and profound prepara- 
tion for this very crisis, and his management 
was so consunnnatelv able that it would have 
excited the admiration of Van Buren himself, 
could he have witnessed it. He first convinced 
the conunittee that Van Buren would accept 
the nomination, if it were unanimously ten- 
dered to him. Tlien he set at work to persuade 



100 GREAT SENATORS. 

them that Van Buren was nothing less than a 
providential candidate. Here was a man who 
for more than a generation had enjoyed the 
confidence of his countrymen ; who had filled 
every official position, from a State legislator to 
President of the United States, with conspic- 
uous ability and integrity ; whose name was 
known and honored throughout the civilized 
world — this great, good and renowned man they 
could now have for their standard bearer in the 
desperate contest in which they were about to 
engage for the cause which was so dear to their 
hearts. His appeal was successful. The com- 
mittee began to be satisfied that it would give 
them national prestige to have Van Buren for 
their candidate. Butler then discoursed upon 
Van Buren's admirable personaJ character, and 
in winning words set forth the purity and vir- 
tues of his private life. He gave an animated 
and picturesque description of a visit he had 
recently made him, at his home in Kinderhook. 
As he was describing the almost boyish activity 



A THUNDER-CLAP. 101 

with which Van Buren went over his farm, and 
the pride he took in his fields of grain and cab- 
bages and turnips, a tall, gaunt delegate from 
Ohio, named Brinkerhoff, slowly and spirally 
elevating himself like a jackscrew, shrieked out, 
in shiill, piercing tones : 

"Damn his cabbages and turnips! What 
does he say about the abolition of slavery in the 
Deestrick of Columby !" 

This was a thunderclap. Silence reigned, 
but not long. The committee spontaneously 
burst into a roar of mingled laughter and 
cheers. 

To understand the terrific impact of that 
question, it should be rc^membered that only 
eleven yeai's before (March 4, 1837), in his in- 
augural address, Van Buren, quoting from his 
letter accepting the nomination to the Presi- 
dency, had said : 

" I must go into the Presidential chair the 
inflexible and uncompromising opponent of 
every attempt on the part of Congress to 



102 GREAT SENATORS. 

abolish slavery in the District of Columbia 
against the wishes of the slaveholding States." 

The explosion of such an interrogative 
bombshell as Brinkeihoff hurled at Van Buren's 
eulogist would have utterly disconcerted an 
ordinary speaker. But the veteran Butler was 
equal to the occasion, and turned what might 
have been a disaster into a means of triumph. 
Thanking his "friend from Ohio" for thus 
bringing forward the important subject of the 
abolition of slavery in the Disti'ict of Columbia, 
he would answer, from personal knowledge of 
the views and convictions of Mr. Van Buren on 
that subject, that if he should be elected 
President of the United States, and if a bill 
abolishing slavery in the District of Columbia 
should be passed by Congress, it would receive 
the President's signature. This assurance 
occasioned great enthusiasm and w\qs received i 
with prolonged applause and cheers. The feel- 
ing thus excited decided the contest in the 
committee. It w^as unanimously resolved to 



VAX BUREN NOMINATED. 103 

recommend Martin Van Buren to the Conven- 
tion as the Free-soil candidate for the Presidencj, 
and Charles Francis Adams for Vice-President, 
A platform of piinciples was also prepared, 
whicli was so extreme in its expression of Free- 
soil and ant i -slavery views that it conld not fail 
to satisfy the most nnrompi'omising members 
of the party. The Convention adopted the 
report of the committee entire, both as to 
candidates and platform, and Van Bnren and 
Adams were nominated with enthnsiasm. 

One of the ir.ottoes pnt forth in the platform 
as a party ciy, was : " No more slave States ; 
no m(^r(^ slave Territories." Soon after its 
adoi)tion, Salmon P. Chase arose and said it was 
thought best to amend the platform in one re- 
spect, namely : Instead of having it read "No 
more slave States ; no more slave Territories," 
it was proposed to strike out the word '^ more " 
in the last clause, so the motto would be : '^ No 
more slave States ; no slave Territories." 
Nothing which occurred during the sitting of 



104 GREAT SENATORS. 

the Convention occasioned more intense enthu- 
siasm than did this proposed amendment. For 
some reason it seemed to touch the inmost 
heart of the delegates and the spectators, and 
it was adopted with prolonged cheering. 

Van Buren and Adams at once accepted 
their nominations, and the Free-soilers, joyously 
throwing their banner to the breeze, went into 
the campaign with wild hurrahs, shouting their 
motto, '^ No?// ore slave States ; no slave Terri- 
tories." 



VIII. The Triangular Fight for the Presi- 
dency — Public Feeling in Washington. 

The ensuing triangular contest for the 
Presidency was an exceedingly embittered one. 
The spectacle of Martin Van Buren — '^ New 
York's favorite son "—leading the anti slavery 
hosts to battle was inexpressibly maddening to 
the Democrats, especially to those of the South, 
and they fairly thirsted for the blood of the 



WEBSTER'S SPEECH. 105 

Free-soilers. The friends of Henry Clay could 
not forgive his alleged betrayal. The candidacy 
of General Taylor' did not^ evoke any party 
enthusiasm. Daniel Webster said that his 
nomination was one not fit to be made. Horace 
Greeley held aloof week after week, and as it 
was becoming apparent that the vote of New 
York State would probably decide the contest, 
his action caused great consternation. In this 
emergency it was reported and believed that 
the gallant Clay, although he would not take 
an active part in the campaign, earnestly de- 
sired the triumph of the Wliig cause. This 
conciliated many of Clay's friends. Webster, 
not that he disliked Taylor less, but that he 
hated Cass and Van Buren more, was induced 
to address a mass meeting at Marshfield, in 
support of the Whig cause. 

His speech was a masterly one. He analyzed 
the situation to the very bottom, and exhibited 
the practical issues at stake in the election in 
the clearest haht. No address could possibly 



106 « GREAT SEiN[ATORS. 

have been better adapted to persuade disaffected 
Whigs to return to the party ranks and vote 
the regular ticket. It was widely publislied, 
and produced a profound effect throughout the 
Northern States. Greeley so hated the Demo- 
cratic party that he could not keep out of the 
fight. He was nominated for a shoi"t term in 
Congress, and threw himself and the Tribune 
into the campaign with his accustomed ardor 
and energy. Everything began to work, 
especially in New York, which was the pivotal 
State, as Seward and Weed had foi-eseen. As 
the contest went on, and the deeper feelings of 
the pai'tisans were stirred, the anti-slavery 
Whigs of the Empire State discovered that they 
could not play into the hands of the Barnburn- 
ers by voting for Martin Van Buren. Thou- 
sands of them returued to their party allegiance, 
and cast their votes for Taylor and Fillmore. 
This decided the contest. Aside from the vote 
of New York, Taylor had 128 and Cass 127 
electoral votes. The vote of New York then— 



FEEUNG IX WASHINGTON. <• 107 

as SO often before and since— determined on 
wliicli l)anner victory should perch ; and, ow- 
ing to the vast Democratic bolt in favor of Van 
Buren, Taylor got the vote of the Empire State, 
by a small plurality, which gave him 37 majority 
in the Electoral College — and carried the Whig 
party again, and for the last time, into Federal 
power. 

It was only a month after this bitter contest 
was ended tbat the session of Congress began, 
and the animosities and heartburnings which 
had been engendered by the fight were carried 
to Wasliingt(Hi. On the fifth day of the ensu- 
ing March--tbe fourth coming on Sunday — 
General Tavl(^r was to be inauirurated, and a 
Whig Administration, with an anti- slavery 
Vice-President to preside over the Senate, was 
to come into power. It was understood that 
Willinm H. Seward, of New York, and Salmon 
P. Cbase, of Ohio, were to be elected United 
States Senators fi'om their respective States. 
Seward and Chase were detested by the South, 



108 GREAT SENATORS. 

and the idea that they were to come into the 
Senate was intolerable to some of the Southern 
Senators. In addition to all these ii'ritating 
influences, an exasperating rumor was circu- 
lated that Seward had won the confidence of 
General Taylor — who spoke of him as " tlie 
great Mr. See ward, of New York " — and would 
be influential in shaping his administration. 
All these things helped to increase the excite- 
ment with regard to slavery and abolition, 
which already ran so high that it had occa- 
sioned mobs in Boston, in New York, and in 
Philadelphia. Anti-slavery meetings were 
often interrupted by mobs in New York. I was 
pi'esent, as a reporter, at several such interrup- 
tions, and on one occasion had my hand trodden 
upon by a ruflian who leaped upon the table at 
which I was writing. Sometimes the tables 
would be overturned and the legs torn out for 
bludgeons. As we reporters were young and 
enthusiastic in our profession, and were 
endowed with a fair talent for table leg, we 



THE SITUATION. 109 

sometimes got in a little good, concussive work 
on the crania of the disturbers of our peace and 

our notes. 

In Washington, moderate anti slavery men 
were socially ostracised in slave holding circles, 
an abolitionist's life was sometimes believed to 
be in danger, and personal colhsions were per- 
petually inmiinent. It was rumored that the 
Southern leaders had concerted a scheme for 
the introduction of slavery into the new Terri- 
tories. This greatly excited the opponents of 
slavery extension, and they determined to 
oppose and defeat the alleged scheme at all 
hazards ; and it was in the collisions which it 
was expected woidd occur in the strife upon 
this subject, that the statesmen of that day 
apprehended danger to the country. 

Such was the political and social situation at 
Washington, on the opening of the second ses- 
sion of the Thirtieth Congress, on December 
4th, iS-iS. 



110 • GREAT SENATORS. 



CHAPTER II. 

HALF-A-DOZEN NOTED SENATORS. 

I. General Sam Houston. —In 1848 there 
were thirty States in the Union and sixty Sena- 
tors in Congress. Of all these sixty Senators 
but three are now (May, .1889) hving, so far as 
I know ; and they are Hannibal Hamlin, of 
Maine ; Simon Cameron,^ of Pennsylvania ; and 
Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi. 

The four men of whom I intend to write par- 
ticularly are Calhoun, Benton, Clay and Web- 
ster. Clay was not in the Senate in 1818, but he 
came in at the session of '49. 

Besides these four pre-eminently conspicuous 
men, there were others in the Senate deserving 

* Cameron died June 28th, fifty days after the above was 
written. 



GENERAL HOUSTON HI 

of notice. There was General Sam Houston, of 
Texas, about whose name more romance clus- 
tered at that time than encircled tlie name of 
any other American citizen. Houston was born <— - ^^u^ 
in Noi^k— Gtrrc^tttar^in 1793, but went to Tennes- 
see while a boy. He became a popular favorite 
at an early age, and after a brilliant military 
and legal career, he entered the arena of politics, 
and was elected Governor of Tennessee when he 
was thirty -four years old. It was predicted that 
he would he President of the United States before . 
he was fift3^ but a sudden and incomprehensible 
stroke of fortune shattered his career and drove 
him from civilization. 

The mystery which surrounded this misfor- 
tune has never been authoritatively cleared up. 
Shortly after his inauguration as Governor of 
Tennessee, Houston married a beautiful young 
lady ; and the legend is that at the time of her 
marriage she had a lover (not Houston) to whom 
she was passionately devoted ; that her family 
compelled her to marry Houston because he 



112 GREAT SE^^ATORS. 

was Governor of Tennessee and the most popu- 
lar man in the State except General Jackson ; 
that Houston soon discovered the truth of the 
matter and was overwhelmed by it— in fact, 
was nearly driven insane by it. At all events, 
he resigned his office and disappeared. It is said 
that he did this in order that his wife might get 
a divorce and marry the man she loved. After 
a while it was found that he had gone to the 
Cherokee country, had been made a chief of that 
tribe, and was living in barbaric dignity ; that 
is to say, in a wigwam plentifully supplied with 
skins, wild game, whiskey and tobacco. 

When the troubles between Texas and 
Mexico began, Houston went to Texas, became 
commander-in-chief of her army, defeated and 
captured Santa Anna, in April, 1836, was elected 
President of the Texan Repubhc, and finally, 
when in ISiS Texas was annexed by treaty to 
the United States, he was elected United States 
Senator, and was a member of the Senate at the 
period of which I am writing. 



GENERAL HOUSTON. 113 

It is not probable that any one in these days 
feels, or could feel such an interest in General 
Houston as people, and especially young men, 
felt in him forty years ago. The tragic circum- 
stances which attended the struggle of Texas 
for her independence were then fresh in our 
memories. My heart leaps now and my blood 
grows hot as I recall the time, in April, 1S36, 
when the news of the terrible fight in the 
Alamo, at San Antonio de Bexar, first came to 
the sequestered village of Lockport, N. Y., 
where I lived, then a boy just coming twelve 
years old. I wept over the fate of the three 
heroic colonels— Travis, Crockett and Bowie, 
and young as I was I thirsted for vengeance 
and prayed for vengeance on their slayers. 

As we children on the Niagara frontier 
were brought up to liate the British, wild 
beasts, Indians, and foes of every kind whatso- 
ever, and were taught to believe in the good old- 
fashioned fire and brimstone hell, and in cognate 
Scripture tenets, undiluted with any revisionary 



1 U GREAT SENATORS. 

Sheol or Hades, I suppose that our militant 
religion had a robustness and an edge wliicli 
are impossible to the faith of boys brought up 
on the human itarianism and the diluted the- 
ology of the present day. At any rate, we all 
prayed fervently to God to avenge Travis, 
Crockett and Bowie on the Mexicans. And 
when, four or five weeks afterwards, news 
came of the massacre of Colonel Fannin and his 
men' at Goliad, after they had surrendered 
under a solemn agreement, in writing, that 
they should be treated as prisoners of war, the 
whole community was aroused to madness. 
Public meetings were held and fiery resolutions 
were passed. We prayed for vengeance more 
fervently than ever. Twenty-four boys, of 
which I was one, formed a company to march 
down and ravage Mexico ; but news of Hous- 
ton's defeat and capture of Santa Anna at San 
Jacinto came in time to save that ill-fated 
republic from the impending invasion. 

The battle of San Jacinto was fought in 



GENERAL HOUSTON. 115 

April, but Dews of the victory did not reach 
Lockport till June. There were no railroads or 
telegraphs in those days (1S36). But it did not 
make any difference. The news was just as 
fresh and welcome when it came, as though it 
had been flashed over the wires on the day of 
battle. We all rejoiced with exceeding great 
joy, felt proud to think that our prayers for 
vengeance had been answered so soon, and 
took great comfort in our religion wiiich so 
speedily led to such gratifying and practical 
results. We were a simple ])eople who believed 
in God, and loved heroes who won battles in 
accordance with our prayers ; and from that 
time General Sam Houston was set in our 
hearts alongside Jackson and Washington. 

Twelve years had passed, and I was now to 
see this hero face to face, to hear him speak, 
and report his words. My experience with 
^'grtat men " and politicians at the Whig Con- 
vention the previous June, and at the Free-soil 
Conventio]! in August, had i^ather chilled my 



1 1 6 GREAT SENATORS. 

expectations as to all sorts of heroes. Hence it 
was not without apprehension that I first 
approached General Houston and looked him 
over, as he stood in an ante room of the Senate 
Chamber, talking with his colleague, Senator 
Rusk. I was not disappointed in his appear- 
ance. It was easy to believe in his heroism, and 
to imagine him leading a heady fight, and 
dealing desti'uction on his foes. He was then 
only fifty-five years old, and seemed to be in 
perfect health and admirable physical condition. 
He was a magnificent barbarian, somewhat 
tempered with civiHzation. He was large of 
frame, of stately carriage and dignified 
demeanor, and had a lionlike countenance cap- 
able of expressing the fiercest passions. His 
dress was peculiar, but it was becoming to his 
style. The conspicuous features of it were a 
military cap, and a short military cloak of fine 
blue broadcloath, with a blood-red lining. 
Afterwards, I occasionally met him when he 
wore a vast and picturesque sombrero and a 



GENERAL HOUSTON. 117 

Mexican blanket — a sort of ornamented bed- 
quilt, Avith a slit in the middle, through which 
the wearer's head is thrust, leaving the blanket 
to hang in graceful folds around the body. 

Like other men of his class, General Hous- 
ton was a heavy drinkei', but he seldom showed 
the effect of his potations. It seemed to me as 
though his wild life had unfitted him for civili- 
zation. He was not a man to shine in a delib- 
erative assembly. It was only at I'are intervals 
that he took any part in the debates, and when 
he did s[)eak, his remarks were brief. His 
principal employment in the Senate was whit- 
tling pine sticks. I used to wonder where he 
got his pine lumber, but never fathomed the 
mystery. He would sit and whittle away, and 
at the same time keep up a muttering of discon- 
tent at the long winded speakers, whom he 
would sometimes curse for their intolerable ver- 
bosity. Those who knew him well said that he 
was tender hearted, and liad a chivalric regard 
for women ; that he would make any personal 



118 GREAT SENATORS. 

sacrifice to promote the welfare of a lady friend 
—a reputation which was directly in line with 
his alleged conduct towards his wife. It was a 
matter of common jocose remark that if "Old 
San Jacinto " (that was Houston's nickname) 
should ever become President, he would have a 
Cabinet of women. 

General Houston impressed me as a lonely, 
melancholy man. And if the story of his early 
life was true, he might well be lonely and 
melancholy, notwithstanding his success and 
his fame ; for that terrible blow which smote 
him to the heart at the zenith of his splendid 
young career, and dislocated his life, and drove 
liim to the wilderness, must have inflicted 
wounds that no political triumphs or military 
glory could heal. He w^as a sincere lover of his 
country, was indomitably patriotic, and stood 
firmly by the Union to the day of his death, 
which came in 1863. 



JEFFERSON DAVIS. 119 



II. Jefferson Davis. 



Another member of that Senatorial body who 
deserves notice was Jefferson Davis, whose sub- 
sequent career has made his name known 
throughout the civihzed world. Mr. Davis w^as 
son-in-law to General Taylor, the incoming 
President. He was forty years old (1818) and 
in vigorous health, but lame from a wound he 
received only twenty-one months before, in the 
Mexican war, in which he greatly distinguished 
himself. Indeed, his gallant conduct at the 
desperate battle of Buena Vista, where he re- 
ceived his wound, had made him, next to Scott 
and Taylor, one of the most popular heroes of 
the day. 

I have spoken of the excitement caused in 
Lock port on the reception of the news of the 
tragic events which occurred during the Texan 
war for independence. A similar, but a much 
deepei- excitement w^as felt throughout the en-^ 
tire country, with regard to the fate of General 



120 GREAT SENATORS. 

Taylor and his army, for several weeks before 
authentic news of the battle of Buena Vista was 
received. It was reported that Taylor's forces 
had been greatly reduced by the mismanage- 
ment of the Administration at Washington, and 
that "Old Rough and Ready," as General Tay- 
lor was affectionately nicknamed, had been pur- 
posely left to be destroyed to prevent his coming 
into the field as a Whig candidate for the Presi- 
dency. This rumor was, of course, cruelly 
false, but it was believed, and gave additional 
intensity to the interest which was felt in the 
uncertain fate of the old hero. It became known 
that Santa Anna, seeing his opportunity, had 
rushed to Tavlor's destruction with an over- 
whelming force. Our little army was beyond 
the reach of all ordinary channels of communi- 
cation, and so the countrv was left in terrible 
suspense as to its fate. The ear of the nation 
was turned with agonizing solicitude to catch 
the first tidings from that devoted little band. 
And when the news at last came — the news of 



JEFFERSON DAVIS. l2i 

a bloody victory — gained aftei' two days of des- 
perate fighting against overwhelming odds — it 
came with a rush and a roar and an outburst of 
rejoicing, such as the country had never before 
witnessed or heard. The news was brought 
across Texas to New Orleans by pony express, 
and was conveyed through the country by the 
same slow means, except where navigable rivers 
gave an opportunity to send it by steamboat. 
As the newspaper reporters and the bearers of 
dispatches scurried through the country they 
told the news along their routes, and the entire 
population broke out with rejoicing in their 
wake. City after city, village after village, 
hamlet after hamlet was illuminated, and the 
w4iole nation revelled in rejoicing. Every par- 
ticular of the battle was minutely described, 
and the descriptions were eagerly read. Among 
these descriptions was a glowing account of 
the gallantry of Colonel Jefferson Davis of 
the First Regiment of Mississippi Volunteers, 
who, though badly wounded, refused to quit 



1 22 GREAT SEN ATORS. 

the field, but giimly sat on his horse at the 
head of his regiment, and held a vital position 
against a vastly superior force, until victory 
was assured. 

Colonel Davis, who was a graduate of West 
Point and had served several years in the regu- 
lar army, was an accomplished soldier. His 
regiment, the First Mississippi, was attacked by 
a force that outnumbered it six to one, and 
was sorely pressed. But Davis, knowing that 
if they were driven from their position the 
American line of battle would be so weakened 
as to imperil the safety of the entire army, held 
his ground with invincible resolution. When 
he was so badly wounded that the surgeon told 
him he must retire, he refused to go. He had 
his wound dressed while he sat in his saddle, 
and held on. Santa Anna, growing desperate 
at the successful resistance of the Mississippians, 
finally ordered a brigade of cavalry to charge 
them, Davis, seeing what was coming, formed 
his regiment in the shape of a V, opening 



JEFFERSON DAVIS. 123 

towards the enemy, while he sat at its apex. 
According to the descriptions of the battle 
pubhshed at the time, the Mexicans came gal- 
lantly on and rode into the Y. The Mississip- 
pians stood with their rifles at their shoulders 
and their fingers on the triggers, awaiting the 
orders of their colonel. When Davis saw that 
the critical moment had come, his clarion voice 
rang out the one word, " Fire !'' His troops 
spontaneously responded, and blew the Mexi- 
cans from their saddles. The end soon came. 
The surviving foes, appalled by the slaughter, 
galloped wildly from the field ; the victorious 
Mississippians had a respite from their desperate 
struggle, and their sorely wounded colonel was 
able to seek the relief which he so much needed. 
It was the wound thus and then received which 
caused the lameness of Jefferson Davis when I 
first saw him in Washington, in December, 
1848, 

Mr. Davis was a handsome man, with a 
symmetrical figure, well up to the medium size, 



124 GREAT SENATORS. 

a piercing but kindly eye, and a gamy, chival- 
ric bearing. He had a fine, sonorous voice, 
and was always a fluent and sometimes an 
eloquent speaker. He was ready and skillful 
in debate, animated in style, occasionally 
vehement in manner, but always courteous. 

I — then a young man of twenty-four, and 
only a few years out of the woods of Niagara 
count V — became attached to Jefferson Davis, on 
account of his genial personal kindness. 
Sometimes thei'e were bills before the Senate 
full of Indian names, or Mexican (Aztec) names, 
or Spanish names, that the Senators could not 
pronounce correctly and which we reporters 
could not catch ; hence, it was necessary for us 
to get sight of the names in print, in order to 
write them out correctly in our reports. When- 
ever a discussion on such a bill took place, I 
used to apply to Mr. Davis for a copy of the 
document, and he would always get me one, no 
matter how much trouble it gave him to do so. 
And he did it with such genial courtesy and 



JEFFERSON DAVIS. 125 

kindness that 'his manner went straight to the 
heart and stayed there. In fact, I used to 
notice that it seemed to give Jefferson Davis 
pleasure to do an act of kinduv^ss for anybody. 

It is not probable that Mr. Davis remembers 
any of these tlnngs (or that he even remembers 
my name), but they are fresh in my recollec- 
tion. I I often thought of Mr. Davis's kind 
'^:ierjsoncil traits in after years, and especially 
during the war, when any of us Northern men 
would have been glad to have had him slain as 
an enemy of the country, wliich sentiment he 
doubtless fully and naturally reciprocated. But 
now that all that is past, and the asperities of 
war have given place to the amenities of peace, 
I find only friendly feelings in my heart towards 
Jefferson Davis, and would gladly reciprocate, 
if opportunity should offer, the kindness which, 
all those years ago, he showed to me, an obscure 
young man, when he was a distinguished and 
powerful Senator of the United States. 



126 GREAT SENATORS. 



III. John P. Hale. 



John P. Hale, of New Hampshire, was the 
first man wlio was elected a United States Sena- 
tor on a square anti-slavery issue. It was re- 
ported that when Hale first took his seat in the 
Senate, his life was threatened by pro-slaveiy 
fanatics. This may have been true ; for, 
although no Southern man of distinction would 
have thought of making or of countenancing 
such a threat, there has never been any age or 
any party in which, if there was a chance for an 
act of folly to be committed, there was not some 
fool on hand ready to commit it. An attempt 
was certainly made to browbeat Hale into 
silence ; but the effort was ludicrously futile. It 
might as well have been attempted to silence the 
thunder of Niagara. 

A Methodist minister in New Hampshire said 
that ^' John P. Hale had been specially selected 
by Providence to inoculate the Senate of the 
United States with the spirit and practice of free 



JOHN P HALE. 127 

speech on the siihjecfc of slavery." I do not 
know that the Methodist minister was in the 
confidence of Providence, and so spoke by the 
card ; but Hale's career as a Senator showed 
that if he, in fact, was thus commissioned, 
Providence exhibited its usual sagacity when it 
chose him for the alleged purpose. 

Hale was thorouglily brave, and always 
stood up manfully for liis rights ; but he was so 
constitutionally good-natured that he could not 
be provoked to anger, and so incorrigibly lazy, 
it was impossible to stinuilate him into a row. 
In addition to these amiable qualities, he had an 
inexhaustible fund of unctuous humor and 
brilliant wit. His voice was a pleasant, pene- 
trating tenor^ his enunciation was distinct, and 
he spoke with extraordinary fluency. He had a 
genius for debate. Nobody in the Senate could 
successfully contend with him in repartee. 

Senator Foote, of Mississippi (a loquacious 
and good-natured man, who sometimes let his 
tongue say what his heart would repudiate), 



128 GREAT SENATORS. 

permitted himself to declare, on the floor of the 
Senate, that if the abolitionist, Hale, should 
ever come to Mississippi, they would hang him 
there on the tallest tree that could be found. 
This shocked the Senate (and in fact the whole 
country), and Southern Senators disclaimed 
sympathy with such an unparliamentary utter- 
ance. But Hale good-naturedly replied that if 
the Senator from Mississippi should visit New 
Hampshire, the intelligent and Christian people 
of that State would not haug him, but would 
treat him hospitably ; would show him their 
churches and manufactories, their free schools 
aud free laborers, and do all possible missionary 
work on him ; aud if he still remained incorri- 
ble, they would not hang him, but would hire a 
hall for him, and let him talk as long as he 
pleased, feeling certain that if they only gave 
him rope enough, he would be sure to hang 
himself. This good-natured and witty I'etort 
was received with great laughter, in which 
Senator Foote heartily joined. Hale invariably 



STEPHEJ^ A. DOUGLAS. 129 

got the laugh on anybody who attacked him ; 
and he finally became a favorite speaker with 
the majority of his Senatorial colleagues. 

IV. Stephen A. Douglas. 

Stephen A. Douglas, of Illinois, had been in 
the Senate less than two years, in 1848, but he 
had begun to take rank as one of the foremost 
debaters in that body. He had a full and rich 
voice, was fluent in speecii, but spoke with 
deliberation and perfect distinctness of enuncia- 
tion, and was thoroughly self-possessed. Mr. 
Douglas was called " The Little Giant," but he 
was not a little man. He was short in stature, 
but he was broad-shouldered and deep-chested, 
and had a large and finely developed head. I 
used to think that his head, though smaller than 
Webster's, was modelled after the same pat- 
tern. 

Mr. Douglas's manner, though easy and 
utterly unconstrained, was dignified and 
urbane. Sometimes, when he was speaking 



I 



130 GREAT SEXATORS. 

with animation, he had a good natured, earnest, 
UouHke look, blended with the utmost simplie- 
itv and illummated with a hic:.h deocree of Intel- 
ligence. On such an occasion, I doubt if a 
stranger, who heard him for the tirst time and 
did not even know his name, could have hstened 
to him ten minutes without being strongly 
attracted by his engaging manner, nor with- 
out at least beginning to feel a pei-sonaJ regard 
for him. He was still more winning in private 
intercourse. There was not the least taint of 
snobbishness alx)ut him : he was utterly devoid 
of pi-etentiousness. He never put on what vain 
and self-conscious Senators imagine to be airs of 
Senatorial dis.nitv. His dignitv was of that 
solid, genuine, American soit which can uncon- 
sciously take cai-e of itself T\ithoiU airs of any 
kind. 

Mr. Douglas was fond of • young men and 
young men Uked him. His easy, familiar, 
friendly manner was always impressive but 
never oppressive. Several times he had occa- 



II 



STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 131 

sion, or else he pretended to have occasion, to 
speak to me while I was in the repoi'ter's seat 
(then several feet at the left of the Vice-Presi- 
dent's chair), during a lull in the business of the 
Senate. Every time he thus spoke to me, he laid 
his arm u])on my shoulder in a companionable 
way, and talked as though I were a younger 
brother in whom he took an affectionate inter- 
est. A long time afterwards, when Douglas 
had been several years in his grave, I met an 
enthusiastic friend of his in ^lankato, Minne- 
sota, who liad risen to political distinction ; and 
on describing his first meeting, when a young 
man, with Douglas, at a party in Chicago, he 
spoke of tliis same manner, and told me how it 
thrilled him, and won his heart forever, when 
the distinguished Senator laid his arm caressing- 
ly upon his shoulder and spoke to him with 
friendly interest and paterjial benignity. 



Douglas died in ISr.I. I never saw him after 



1850. 



T 



132 GREAT SENATORS. 



V. Simon Cameron. 



Senator Cameron impressed me as one of the 
most knowing men in the Senate. Mentally 
and physically he was energetic, active, alert. 
He was a good debater. He always spoke 
clearly and to the point. He never wasted any 
words. As John P. Hale said, "he had a 
boring-in style, like an augnr.-' He was a 
Pennsylvania Tariff Democrat, and was aggres- 
sive in asserting his opinions and convictions. 
He brought on the first debate of the Session by 
opposing a motion made by Senator Davis, of 
Mississippi, to print twenty thousand extra 
copies of the report of the Secretary of the 
Treasury. 

Kobert J. Walker, of Mississippi, was Secre- 
tary of the Treasviry, and one of the leaders in 
the free- trade crusade of that time, which cul- 
minated in the repeal of the Whig protective 
tariff of 1842, and the enactment of the Demo- 
cratic revenue taiiff of 1846. His report con- 



SIMON CAMERON. 133 

tained an elaborate disquisition on the advan- 
tages of the financial policy which had thus 
been inaugurated. 

Senator Cameron said he didn't believe the 
country wanted any extra copies of the Secre- 
tary's report. Referring to the defeat of the 
Democratic party in the receut election, lie said 
'he thought that the coimtry had already 
decided on the merits of the Secretary's system 
of finance, and they had decided against it." 
His remarks occasioned an outburst of indigna- 
tion on the part of Democratic Senators, and 
the discussion soon became heated. Senator 
Hale, seizing the opportunity to let off a little 
of his witty nonsense, said : 

'' He was surprised to learn from the Senator 
from Pennsylvania, that the people of this 
country, in the late Presidential election, had 
decided against the late tariff act, and in favor 
of that of 18-lL>. As he undei-stood it, the one 
great question connected with that election 
was, whether General Taylor or either of the 



134: GREAT SENATORS. 

other nominees was the most genuine Free- 
soil man. And it was generally conceded that 
General Taylor was the genuine, Simon Pure 
Free-soil candidate, while Mr. Van Buren and his 
friends were held as mere pretenders and inter- 
lopers." [Laughter.] 

Hale's jocosity, although it led to a hrief 
diversion of the debate from the tariff to the 
recent Presidential election, did not turn the 
free-trade Democrats from their pursuit of the 
offending Senator from Pennsylvania. They 
soon returned to their attacks on him, and to 
the support of the motion to print an extra 
number of Secretary Walker's free-trade 
report. The Whig Senators were, of course, 
delighted at this domestic infelicity in the ranks 
of their opponents, and some of them good- 
naturedly helped it on by taking sides with 
Cameron. But that belligerent Senator did not 
need any help. He easily held his own, and 
dealt blows right and left, with such vigor as 
made the debate uncomfortable for his party. 



SniO.V CAMERON. 135 

111 a sharp rejoinder to observations made by 
some of the Southern Democrats, he said : 

*'In my State, (Pennsylvania,) where the 
people live by their honest industry, where 
every man works, and subsists upon the labor 
of his own hands, there the tariff was the ques- 
tion which was discussed, the issue that was 
placed before the people. The Democratic party 
would not have been prostrated had it not been 
for this tinancial system." 

But Cameron's opposition to the printing of 
twenty thousand extra copies of Secretary 
Walkei-'s free- trade report was futile. The 
motion to print was carried by a vote of 29 to 
21. 

The reporters felt grateful to Cameron for 
bringing on this debate. They were paid a 
stipend of ten dollars a week, and four dollars a 
column for their reports. A week of the session 
had passed without any debate, and all the com- 
pensation the reporters had received was their 
weekly stipend of ten dollars. It may be 



136 GREAT SENATORS. 

imagined, therefore, how dehghted they were 
to have a debate brought on which put many 
shekels in their purses. 

Cameron was always friendly to the report 
ers. On one occasion, when Senator Badger, of 
North Carolina, introduced a resolution " that 
the Committee on Printing inquire iuto the 
expediency of discontinuing the contract made 
at the last session for publishing the reports of 
the debates and proceedings of Congress," he 
spoke warmly and emi)hatically in favor of the 
reporters. The contract to which Senator Bad- 
ger's resolution referred, was made with tine 
National IntellUjencer, the organ of the Whig 
party, and the Union, the organ of the Demo- 
cratic party. Each of those papers was paid 
seven dollars a column for its Congressional 
reports. The proprietors of the papers inter- 
preted their contract so liberally that they 
included everything which came before Con- 
gress — President's messages, reports of heads of 
Departments, and public documents of every 



SIMON CAMERON. I37 

kind — in " Tlic (lel)ates and proceedings," and 
pul)Iislied them at seven dollars acolmnn. This 
occasioned a good deal of dissatisfaction. In 
addili<jn to this, some of the Senators were 
indignant hecause tlieir speeches did not read as 
well in print as they would have liked them to 
ivad. There was an extended debate on the 
i( '.solution, whicli was finally narrowed down to 
an animated discussion of the ability and faith- 
fulness of thr It porters. On this question 
Senator Cam(M-on si)oke out with vigor and ap- 
preciat ion. 

''1 do not l)elieve," he said, "there is a 
better set of men in the world, in their profes- 
sion, than those who are now engaged in 
i-e])ortini;- our debates. They are highly 
educated, talented, and accomplished, and they 
devote more time to their profession here than 
any class of men engaged in any other profes- 
sion in the world devote to labor." 

The reporters all liked Senator Cameron. 
The system of reporting the Congressional 



13S GREAT SENATORS. 

debates was continued without modification, or 
any more fault-finding. 

Senator Cameron had the reputation of 
possessing the Jacksouian virtue of standing 
inflexibly by his friends. He also had the 
Jacksonian })luck and grit, as Senator Foote, 
of Mississippi, discovered on a memorable 
occasion. It was the last night of tlie Thirtieth 
Congress, March 3, 1849, Avlien the session of 
the Seiiate was prolonged till seven o'clock on 
Sunday morning. Some of the members took 
the ground that the Thirtieth Congress went 
out of existence at the hour of midnight, and 
that Senators whose term of oflice expired with 
the termination of Congress (of whom Cameron 
was one) ceased to be Senators at midnight, and 
had no right to take part in the proceedings of 
the Senate after that hour. That prolt)nged 
session wore out the patience of many Senators, 
and violent outbursts of ill-temper repeatedly 
occurred. Senator Foote was especially aggra- 
vatimr in his manner towards members whose 



SDIOX CAMERON. I39 

terms, as he all<^ged, had expired, and his con- 
duct finally led to a disgraceful scene. About 
three o'clock on Sunday morning, while Senator 
Berrien, of Georgia, was speaking, there 
suddenly arose— I now copy from the report : 

[Ci'ies of " Question I question ! question!"] 

Mk ?>kkrien. Who calls question ? 

Mr. Foote. It is parliamentary to do so. 

]\Ir. Hannegan. When I said "question"! 
1h()n<j:ht tJK' Senator from Georgia had taken 
liis seat. 

Mr. Cameron. I called for the question, 
l)ecause I was astonished that men holding the 
liigh and r(»s])()nsihle station of Senators of the 
United States — 

Mr. Foote. I call tlie Senator from Pennsyl- 
vania to order. He has no right to talk here, 
still less to intenupt other Senators. His term 
of oflict? has expired. 

^ -Jr * ^ * 

Mr. Cameron. I rise to a point of order. I 
wish to know whether such language is parlia- 
mentary. 

Mr. 'Foote. It is very proper under the 

circumstances. . , 

Mr. Cameron. I did not ask his opinion. I 
can judge tor myself, sir, of what is right and 

])roi)er. i <- ±1 o 

[Otlier words were uttered by botn tiie hen- 
ators fi-oni Pennsvlvania and Mississippi, and 
something ai)proaching a personal colhsion 
ensued.] 



IttO GREAT SENATORS. 

That is the polite and euphemistic way in 
which the report puts it ; hut the plain truth of 
the matter was that the two Senators called 
each other opprobrious names and then clinched. 
As General Houston said : " The eloquent and 
impassioned gentlemen got into each othei''s 
hair." They were soon separated, but not until 
it became apparent that the Keystone State had 
the better man in the field, and he was not 
molested again. 

Mr. Cameron's subsequent career forms a 
part of the country's history. He always had 
devoted friends who loved to celebrate his vir- 
tues, but were sometimes indiscreet in their 
expressions of admiration. For example : 
When Cameron resigned his office as Secl^etary 
of War, in 1862, a Pennsylvania editor gave 
him two columns of eulogy, winding up with a 
burst of equivocal enthusiasm. " Thirty years 
ago," said the ardent editor, "Simon Came- 
ron landed from a raft at Harrisburgh, with 
only a dime in his pocket, and yesterday he 



HANiN'iBAL HAMLIN. . 14£ 

left the War Office worth five miUions of 
dollars." 

VI. Hannibal Hamlin. 

Mr. Hamlin is the youngest of the three (or, 
since Mr. Cameron's recent death, of the two) 
survivors of the sixty Senators of 1&4S. He 
was horn August 27, 1809 ; Jefferson Davis, 
June 3, 1808 ; Simon Cameron, March 8, 1799. 

Ml'. Hamlin's distinguished career has made 
ills name and liis history familiar to his country- 
men. 1 dn not remember that I ever spoke to 
him, and lie so seldom took part in the Sena- 
torial debates that my observation of him was 
too slight to fix his individuality clearly in my 
recollection. I remember, however, two con- 
victions which his appearance impressed upon 
me ; oiie of which was that he was a man of 
absolute honesty and uprightness ; the other, 
that he was a genial and humorous man. I 
i-emember thinking that he must be a good 
story teller, and that he would be a pleasant 
companion with whom to pass an afternoon or 



142 • GREAT SENATORS. 

evening on the deck of a steamboat, oi' on the 
l^iazza of a hotel at a summer resort. 

There were other men in the Senate at this 
l^eriod who were then notable personages. But 
there is not sufficient surviving jjubhc interest 
in them to wan-ant me in sketching them here. 
They did not happen to do anything under my 
observation, or say anything in my hearing 
which was noteworthy, and as I never gave 
them paiticular attention, I have only a vague 
recollection of their personal characteristics. I 
will therefore pass on to the delineation of the 
four great Senators — Calhoun, Benton, Clay 
and Webster — of whose characters and person- 
alities I have made special and prolonged study. 

VII. Alexander H. Stephens — An Incident 

AT Judge McLean's. 

Before entering upon the delineation of the 
character of Calhoun, Benton, Clay and Web- 
ster, I will refer to a distinguished member of 
the House of Eepresentatives — Alexander H. 



ALEXANDER H. STEPHENS. US 

Stephens, of Georgia— because of an incident 
which has a bearing on a matter of some im- 
portance which was subsequently discussed by 
Calhoun. 

Tlie Honorable John McLean, of Ohio, one 
of the Justices of the United States Supreme 
Court, and his wife became so interested in 
phonography, the new system of short-hand 
writing, then coming into vogue, that they 
arranged for me to give a lecture upon the sub- 
ject in their parlors. They invited a distin- 
guislied company to hear the lecture. Mr. 
Stepliens was present. After I had explained 
the system, and (with the aid of a blackboard) 
taught th(3 audience to read simple sentences 
wi'itten in phonographic characters, an exhibi- 
tion of rapid writing was given by Dennis F. 
Murpliy, who for many years has been the 
most accomplished reporter in the United States 
Senate, but was then a pupil of mine, fourteen 
years old. The first thing which was read for 
Murphy to take down in short-hand was a pas- 



144 GREAT SENATORS. 

sage from the Declaration of Independence. 
When the exercises were concluded, and 
Murphy had finished reading the dictated pas- 
sage from his phonographic notes, Mr. Stephens 
asked : 

'' How old is that hoy ?" 

*' Fourteen years," I replied. 

'^Then that is no test," he said. " Before I 
was fourteen years old, I knew the Declaration 
of Independence and the Constitution of the 
United States hy heart. Read something else 
for the hoy to write down.'' 

Several passages from newspapers and hooks 
were read. Murphy, who had a remarkahle gift 
for rapid writing, took them down with ease, 
and read them correctlv from his notes, for 
which he was much applauded. x\s the company 
was dispersing, the Hon. Thomas Ewing, of 
Ohio (who came into General Taylor's cahinet 
a few months afterwards, as Secretary of the 
Interior), jocularly remarked to the Representa- 
tive from Georgia : 



GEORGIA BOYS. 



145 



a Ui 



Stephens, you must have been a precocious 
boy to have known the Declaration of Independ- 
ence and the Constitution of the United States 
by heart before you were fourteen years old." 

'' ( )h, no : " Stephens replied. '' My school- 
fellows were equally familiar with them. We 
were brought up on those documents, and kuew 
them sentence by sentence." 

"Do any of you know them by heart now ?" 
asked Ewiiig. 

''I can speak only for myself, as to that," 
Ste])hens answered. " I do not know that I could 
repeat them verbatim now, but I could come 
pretty near it." 

A few days afterwards, I met Mr. Ewing ; 
and the phonographic lecture and Master Mur- 
phy's wonderful skill in short-hand writing 
being referred to, I remarked that he (Ewing) 
''seemed to tliink that Mr. Stephens was mis- 
taken as to the famiharity of Georgia boys of 
fourteen with the Declaration of Independence 
and the Constitution of the United States." 



146 GREAT SENATORS. 

^*It was remarkable," Mr. Ewing replied; 
^'but I have no doubt that Stephens told the 
truth. Such things run in streaks, in schools, 
in neighborhoods. A certain set of boys some- 
times astonish people by their familiarity with 
subjects which no one would suppose them to 
have any knowledge of. One clever and ambi- 
tious boy, who is passionately devoted to some 
particulai* study, will inspire many of his school- 
fellows with a like enthusiasm, and they vvill 
make that study a hobby. That was probably 
the case in Stephens's set ; but I do not sup- 
pose that in general the boys of Georgia are 
q.ny more familiar with the Declaration of 
Independence and tlie Constitution of the 
United States than are the boys of Ohio or any 
other State." 

It will be seen further on, that Cnlhoun's 
account of the education of boys in South Caro- 
lina was somewhat out of joint with Mr. Steph- 
ens's statement as to the mental acquisitions 
of boys in Georgia. 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. j^- 



CHAPTEE III. 

John C. Calhoun. 
I. Notions of Calhoun in the North. — My feel- 
ings TOAVARDS . him.— His personal 

APPEARANCE. — My CHANGE OF 
FEELING IN HIS FAVOR. 

Forty years ago (1848) John C. Calhoun, of 
South Carohna, was one of the most noted men 
on the American continent. Tlie rabid aboH- 
tionists of the North — of whom I was one— 
who hated slavery and slaveholders with viru- 
lent animosity, felt towards Calhoun the same 
as Southern men, who hated abohtionists with 
eciual virulence, felt towards WiUiam I^lo.xd 
Garrison. All through the North, Calhoun was 
known as the '^ Great Secessionist," the '"Great 
Nullifier," the "Great Disunionist," and the 
"Great" bad man generally, who had long 



I 



148 GREAT SENATORS. 

been trying to destroy the Union. As I was 
full to the brim of abohtion bigotry and preju- 
dice, when I went to Washington I was 
naturally eager to get a sight of the great 
South Carolina nullifier and disunionist ; and 
when he was pointed out to me, in the Senate 
Chamber, I gave him a searching scrutiny. 
His appearance satisfied me completely. He 
seemed to be a perfect image and embodiment 
of the devil. Had I come across his likeness 
in a copy of Milton's Paradise Lost, I should 
have at once accepted it as a picture of Satan, 
and as a masterpiece of some great artist who 
had a peculiar genius for Satanic portraiture. 
He w^as tall and gaunt. His ( omplexion was 
dark and Indian like, and there seemed to be 
an inner complexion of a dark soul shining out 
through the skin of the face. His eyes were 
large, black, piercing, scintillant. His hair 
was iron gray, and rising nearly straight from 
the scalp, fell over on all sides, and hung down 
in thick masses like a lion's mane. His feat- 



JOHN C. CALHOUN l|.> 

ures were strongly marked, and their expi-essi..i, 
was firm, stern, aggressive, threatening. 

It was some time before I heard Callioun's 
voice, as he seldom addressed the Senate. But 
at last a petition from the inhabitants of New 
Mexico (one of the Territories recently acquired 
from Mexico by our Government) was presented 
to the Senate, by Colonel Benton and Senator 
Clayton, of Delaware, in which the petitioners 
prayed that Congress would protect tlieni. 
against the introduction of slavery into that 
Territory. Hera was that everlasting Wilniot 
Proviso again, coming up from an unexpected 
quarter. It brought Calhoun to his feet, and 
his rising at once brought the previously scat- 
tered and indifferent attention of the Senate to 
a focus. Silence reigned, and every eye was 
turned upon the Senator from South Carolina. 
He denounced the petition— coming, as he said, 
"from a people conquered by our arms "—as 
impertinent and insolent, and as an insult to 
the Senate and the country. I was nnich 



150 GREAT SENATOHS. 

impressed by the clearness of Calhoun's views, 
by the bell like sweetness and resonance of his 
voice, the elegance of his diction, and the 
exquisite courtesy of his demeanor. Such a 
combination of attractive qualities was a revela- 
tion to me, and I spontaneously wished that 
Calhoun was an abolitionist, so we could have 
him talking on our side. I thought that if he 
only w^ere on our side, he might even eclipse 
.Wendell Phillips as an anti- slavery orator. 

The petition from the inhabitants of New 
Mexico had been prepared at the instigation of 
Colonel Benton, on purpose to uncover the 
designs of the slavery extensionists. In 
fact, it was surmised that Benton wrote the 
petition himself ; and when Calhoun declared 
that it was an insult to the Senate and the 
country, and stigmatized it as impertinent and 
insolent, Benton, who hated Calhoun, was en- 
raged and replied to him with great bitterness. 
Benton's manner was, and evidently was 
intended to be, insulting and exasperating. It 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. l.-.l 

seemed to me that Calhoun would be unable to 
refrain from resenting it in an emphatic way. 
But he treated it with absolute indifference. I 
watched him as closely as I could, and it was 
impossible to tell from his manner that he was 
conscious of anything which Benton was saying. 
The debate became general and a good deal of 
bad tem|)er was shown. Benton repeatedly 
assailed Calhoun in an exasperating fashion, but 
he did not seem to mind it. He replied to 
several of Benton's attacks, and occasionally 
wariued into vehemence, but maintained bis 
dignified demeanor and exquisite courtesy to 
the end of the debate. At the beginning of the 
contest, my feelings were against Calhoun and 
1 wanted him to be worsted ; but at the close, 
alth(3Ugh I was opposed to the principles which 
he advocated, my personal feelings were in his 
favor, and his physiognomy seemed to have 
undergone a change. Instead of looking like a 
devil, he impressed me as a high-toned, elegant 
gentleman, with a brilliant intellect, a sweet 



152 GREAT SENATORS. 

disposition, a sound heart, and a conscientious 
devotion to what he believed to be right. I was 
vexed and astonished at myself that such a 
change should have occurred in my feelings 
towards the Great Nullifier. It seemed to me 
that I was becoming a traitor to my status as 
an abolitionist ; but as time went on the change 
also went on in spite of all that I could do. 

II. A New Year's Call— The State Eights 
Doctrine from Calhoun's Lips. 

On New Year's day, 18-1:9, I called on Mr. 
Calhoun, at his request, to explain to him the 
new system of phonographic writing, which 
was then exciting a good deal of interest. Mr. 
Calhoun being too unwell to make or receive 
calls that day, he utilized the time by taking a 
lesson in phonography. Accompanied by Mas- 
ter Murphy, I went to Mr. Calhoun's residence 
at twelve o'clock and stayed till sundown. He 
was not at all well ; in fact, was never again 
well, and died in fifteen months from that da v. 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. \i^^ 

After getting through with phonography, in tlie 
philosophy of which he took great interest, as 
he also did in the exhibition of remarkable skill 
in its use which was given by Master Muri)]iy, 
he branched off into reporting generally, and 
said, among other things, that reporters habit- 
ually made one mistake in their reports of his 
speeches which annoyed him. 

'^ What is that mistake ?" I asked, to which 
he replied : 

^' They make me say ^ this Nation,^ instead 
of Hhis Union.'' I never use the word Nation 
in speaking of the United States ; I always use 
the word Union, or Confederacy. We are not 
a nation, but a Union, a confederacy of equal 
and sovereign States. England is a nation, 
Austria is a nation, Eussia is a nation, but the 
United States are not a nation. " 

Then he launched out into his reasons for 
never calhng the United States a nation, and 
touched upon his whole political philosoj^liy. I 
was so charmed with his manner, with the 



• 



154 GREAT SENATORS. 



clearness of his ideas and the precision with 
which he expressed them, that on subsequent 
occasions I asked him many questions on the 
subject, which he always copiously answered, 
and seemingly with pleasure. He used the 
words sovereign and sovereignty so often in 
speaking of the * ' sovereign States " and the 
'* sovereignty of the people," that on one 
occasion I asked him where sovereignty origin- 
ated, and how one State got to be more sover- 
eign than the United States — than all the States 
taken together. 

His reply, which follows, I wrote out in 
short-hand as soon as I could. It is not probable 
that I reproduced it verbatim, but the substance 
is accurately given. He said : 

"That question goes deep. Sovereignty 
resides in the people. It is not created hy them ; 
it is horn in them, and cannot be alienated from 
them. In considering the nature of our iiistitu- 
tions, a distinction must be made between 
sovereignty and government. Government, 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 155 

unlike inborn sovereignty, is a creation of the 
people — is the instrument devised by the peoi)le 
for exercising their sovereignty over their own 
affairs and for their own convenience and beiK*- 
fit. Sovereignt}' is natural, government is 
artificial. Sovereignty is primary, government 
is secondary. Sovereignty is inalienable and 
unchangeable, while government is alienable, 
and may be changed, or transferred even, at the 
will of sovereignty— that is to say, at the will of 
the citizens of the State who are the sovereigns. 
'*Tn our Union, or Confederacy, each State 
is a sovereign State. The thirteen original 
sovereign States learned by experience that 
their political necessities comprised two distinct 
classes of governmental wants; first, local wants 
pertaining to domestic affairs and circumscribed 
by State hues ; second, general wants relating 
to affairs originating or extending beyond State 
lines. For this reason it became expedient tiiat, 
in addition to their State governments, whi.h 
could administer all local affairs, the States 



156 ^REAT SENATORS. 

should institute a general government, or com- 
mon agent, to attend to general and common 
and foreign affairs, such as are common to all 
the States and require the exercise of jurisdic- 
tion beyond State lines. The States did institute 
such common agent or general government, to 
wit : the Federal Government, to transact cer- 
tain business for them ; but they did not endow 
it with an atom of sovereign power, and in fact 
could not do so, because sovereignty is inalien- 
able, and perpetually i-esides, where its Creator 
originally placed it, in the hearts and minds of 
individual freemen." 

''How then," I asked, "does a State get 
to be sovereign ?" to which Mr. Calhoun re- 
plied : 

" The people of a State are a political unit ; 
as their interests are unified, homogeneous, one, 
they (the people) are combined and solidified 
into what is simply a larger individuality, and 
their individual sovereignty is transferred into 
a unified political or State sovereignty, making 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 



157 



the State itself sovereign within its oivn lines ; 
but its sovereignty cannot be extended beyond 
its own boundaries. The problem whicli tlie 
framers of the Federal Constitution, in their 
efforts to institute a common agent to act as the 
servant of the sovereign States, had to solve, 
was, liow to create a government which would 
answer the purpose of the States without 
impairing their sovereignty ; in other words, 
how to secure the services of an efficient ser- 
vant, and at the same time impose such condi- 
tions that their servant would not and could 
not become their master. Hence, in the 
Federal Compact or Constitution, they carefully 
defined and limited the powers which they con- 
ferred upon or delegated to their common agent 
and expressly reserved to themselves all powers 
not specifically delegated ; and no power can be 
exercised by their common agent, the Federal 
Government, unless it is specifically granted in 
the Federal Compact, which gives it all the 
power it has. Therefore, if this common agent, 



158 GREAT SENATORS. 

the Federal Government, goes beyond the scope 
of its agreement with its employers (the sover- 
eign States), its action is not binding npon its 
employers, bnt is void, and may be repealed 
or nullified by them. In fact, the compact is 
broken by such usui-pation on the part of the 
common agent, and any State which, in its own 
judgment, is injured or oppressed by such 
unconstitutional action, may, at its own will 
and pleasure, recede from the original compact 
or agreement, and secede from the Union." 

Here we have stated in an off hand, collo- 
quial way, the famous State Rights or Secession 
docti'ine, which led to our late war, and cost 
many lives and much money. 



III. The Secession Doctrine originally not 
A South Carolina, but a Massachu- 
setts HERESY. 

The popular notion is that the State Rights, | 
Secession, or Disunion doctrine was originated 
by Calhoun and was a South Carolina heresy. 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. I59 

But that popular notion is wrong. According 
to the best information I have been able to 
acquire on the subject, the State Eights or 
Secession doctrine, was originated by Josiah 
Quincy, and was a Massachusetts heresy. 

In 1811, a bill for the admission of what was 
then called the Orleans Territory (now the 
State of Louisiana) into the Union as a State, 
was under discussion in the House of Repre- 
sentatives. Josiah Quincy, of Massachusetts, 
and many of his colleagues, opposed the measure 
on the ground that Congress hadn't the consti- 
tutional power to admit into the Union a for- 
eign people or State, whose territory was not 
a part of the original national domain at the 
time the Constitution was adopted, and the 
formation of the Union consummated. Mr. 
Quincy declared that if the bill was passed, and 
Orleans (now Louisiana) were admitted, the act 
would be subversive of the Union, and the 
several States would be freed from their federal 
bonds and obligations, "and that, as it will be 



160 GREAT SENATORS. 

the right of all, [the States,] so it will be the 
duty of some, to prepare clefiDitely for a separa- 
tion — amicably if they can, violently if they 
must." 

Mr. Poin dexter, with many others, was so 
shocked by this declaration that he called Mr. 

Quincy to order; "and," as the report says, 
(see Abridged Cougressional Debates, Vol. IV, 

page 327,) "Mr. Quincy repeated and justified 
the remark he had made, which, to save all 
misapprehension, he committed to writing in 
the following words : 'If this bill passes, it is 
my deliberate opinion that it is virtually a dis- 
solution of the Union ; that it will free the 
States from their moral obligation, and as it 
will be the right of all, so it will be the duty of 
some, definitely to prepxre for a separation, 
amicably if they can, violently if they must.'" 
The Speaker, Joseph B. Varnum, of Massa- 
chusetts, ruled that the last clause of Mr. 
Quincy's remarks was unparliamentary and out 
of order. Mr. Quincy appealed from the 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 161 

Speaker's decision, and his appeal was sustained 
by a vote of 56 to 53. Thus it was decided by 
the House of Representatives, under the lead of 
one of the most enlightened and patriotic sons 
of Massachusetts, that it was parliamentary 
and proper to discuss the dissolution of the 
Union, and to maintain that in case of a certain 
specified contingency it would be the right of 
all the States, and the duty of some of them, 
definitely to prepare for a separation, amicably 
if they could, violently if they must. Is not 
this the complete and exact logical sum and 
' outcome of Calhoun's theory, as just given ? 
The extraordinary scene in which Mr. Quincy 
thus played the leading role, occurred in the 
House of Representatives on the lith day of 
January, 1811. Calhoun did not take his seat 
in that House until the 4th day of the ensuing 
November. He was then twenty-nine years old. 
What his convictions were at that time as to 
the right of secession we have a brief but sig- 
nificant indication. On the 26th day of Novem- 



i 

162 GREAT SENATORS. 

ber, 1811, when war with Great Britain was 
becoming imminent, Calhoun submitted to the 
House of Representatives a report on Foreign 
Relations, in which occurred the following 
memorable passage, two words of which I shall 
take tlie liberty of italicising : 

*' If we have not rushed to the field of battle 
like the nations who are led by the mad am- 
bition of a single chief or the avarice of a 
corrupted court, it has not proceeded from a 
fear of war, but from our love of justice and 
humanity. That proud spirit of liberty and 
independence, v,rhich sustained our fathers in 
the successful assertion of their liberties against 
foreign aggression, is not yet sunk. The patri- 
otic fire of the Revolution still burns in the 
American breast with a holy inextinguishable 
flame, and will conduct this nation to those 
high destinies, which are not less the reward of 
dignified moderation, than of exalted valor. " 

This passage was widely published at the 
time, and deservedly gave great prestige to Cal- 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. IC,3 

houn's name ; but the present reader (if he be 
an observing one) will probably be most struck 
by the fact that in it Calhoun, with his own 
hand (and not by means of a mistaken report- 
er's hand), wrote "this nation" instead of 
" this Union." It is evident, therefore, that he 
had not then adopted the disunion or secession 
doctrines which had been broached in the House 
of Representatives ten months before, by Josiah 
Quincy, of Massachusetts. 

Two years afterwards, on January 8th, 1813, 
(see page 656 of the same Volume of Debates,) 
Henry Clay taunted Quincy and his associates 
with their "plot to dismember the Union, "and, 
referring to Quincy's declaration, made two 
years before, exclaimed : "The gentleman can- 
not have forgotten his own sentimezit; uttered 
even on the floor of this House, ' Peaceably if 
we can, forcibly if we must !' " 

Thirty-three years after Josiah Quincy had 
thus taken the lead in advocating the doctrine 
of disunion and secession, to Avit, in ISil:, when 



164 GREAT SENATORS. 

the question of the annexation of Texas was 
agitating the country, another distinguished son 
of Massachusetts, Charles Francis Adams, then 
a member of the Massachusetts Legislature, 
followed up Mr. Quincy's lead, by introducing 
a resolution embodying the doctrine so long 
before initiated by Mr. Quincy in the House of 
Representatives. Mr. Adams's resolution 
declared in almost the same words that had 
been used by Mr. Quincy in the debate on the 
admission of Louisiana, that the General Gov- 
ernment has not the constitutional power to 
unite an independent foreign state with the 
United States, as no such power had been dele- 
gated to it, and that "the Commonwealth of 
Massachusetts, faithful to the compact between 
the people of the United States, according to 
the plain mean in g and intent in which it was 
understood and acceded to by them, is sincerely 
anxious for its preservation, and that it is deter- 
mined, as it doubts not other States are, to 
submit to undelegated Powers in no body of 



1 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 1(J5 

men on earth ; and that the project of the 
annexation of Texas, unless resisted on the 
threshold, may tend to diive these States into a 
dissolution of the Union." 

Calhoun could not ask for any better doctrine 
of disunion and secession than was presented 
in that resolution, and that resolution was 
adopted by the Legislature of Massachusetts, 
under the lead of Charles Francis Adams who, 
four years afterwards, was the Free- soil candi- 
date for the Vice-Presidency of that Union 
whose possible dissolution he so calmly contem- 
plated in 1844. I do not present these facts for 
the purpose of making out a condemnatory case 
against Massachusetts. That magnificent old 
Commonwealth can stand the truth ; and so 
can her illu'^trious sons. The truth is that in 
times of wild excitement, when we were all 
running at the eyes and nose with political influ- 
enza and frothing at the mouth with se(ffcnal 
madness, it was customary for all sorts of 
people to talk glibly about disunion, and about 



166 GREAT SENATORS. 

^'letting the South go." Even Charles Snmner 
said: "If they wiU only go, we will build a 
bridge of gold for them to go over on." We 
didn't know how dear to our hearts the Union 
was until it w^as assailed by hostile arms, and 
we were in immediate danger of losing it. 

It is possible that Calhoun's adulatory 
admirers will not thank me for defending him 
against what they may consider one of his 
strongest claims upon their admiration ; but it 
is due to the spirit of justice and fair play that 
the truth of this matter should be presented. 
Ever since I can remember anything about 
public affairs, Calhoun has been anathematised m 
and vituperated with venomous animosity as the 
one man, the only man responsible for the prev- 
alence of disunion and secession doctrines. I ' 
zealously joined in the outcry against him for 
years, and hated his very name, until I became 
acquainted with him and with the facts. I have 
no intention now of attempting to exonerate 
him from the responsibilities which he incurred 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. ic>7 

by his political course, but I do wish to 
treat him fairly. And for that purpose I wish 
fairly to apportion the responsibility for the 
original insemination of the pubhc mind with 
the doctrines of disunion and secession ; and 
without intending disrespect to any State or any 
statesmen by the application of an old adage to 
the case, I insist that what is sauce for the 
South Carolina goose is also sauce for the 
Massachusett's gander. 

Inasmuch as the doctrines of disunion and 
secession have became obsolete, and the course 
of events has determined that we are a Nation, 
and a Nation w4th a big N, I will not give Web- 
ster's refutation of the doctrines, but will dismiss 
the subject with a simple recurrence to the 
remark wdiich introduced it, namely : Calhoun's 
declaration that it annoyed him to have report- 
ers represent him as calling the United States a 
Nation instead of a Union. After the exposi- 
tion which has been given of the great South 
Carolinian's views, the reader will readily 



168 GREAT SENATORS. 

understa]id why such a misrepresentation of his 
language was so annoying to Calhoun. 

lY. Calhoun's Views on the Education of 
Boys — His Opinion of General Jackson. 

During the interview on New Year's Day, 
1849, the value of phonography as an educa- 
tional instrument came under discussion, and 
Calhoun branched off into educational methods 
generally. He contrasted Southern with North- 
ern education, and thought that the people of 
the North were fundamentally wrong as to their 
notions on the subject. He said they cultivated 
the intellect almost exclusively, to the neglect 
of everything else, and especially to the neglect 
of the body. It will be seen from Calhoun's 
account of the training of South Carolina boys 
that it differed somewhat from the training of 
Georgia boys, according to the statement of 
Alexander H. Stephens, given at the close of 
the preceding chapter. 

''Look at that boy," he said, nodding 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. ;l(;(j 

towards Master Murphy, who was small in 
stature, but had a large and finely developed 
head, and a countenance indicating unusual 
intellectual culture in one so young : — "Look at 
that boy, with the body of a child and the head 
of a man. He looks as intellectual as a college 
professor, and yet see how deficient he is in 
strength and physical toughness. In South 
Carolina, instead of pushing a boy of his age in 
his studies, we would have him riding horses, 
leaping fences and shooting squirrels. We 
would build up his body before we set his brain 
at work. As soon as he became robust and 
hardy, his head could take care of itself. A 
people who train their children and youth, gen- 
eration after generation, as that boy has been 
trained, may become brilHant in intellectual 
development and profound in the learning of 
the schools, but they will lose their grip on mat- 
ters of pubhc and practical importance and have 
to take an inferior position as to great questions 
and great affairs." 



« fe' 



170 GREAT SENATORS. 

The South CaroHiia method of educating 
boys, as it was set forth by Calhoun, reminds 
one of the old Persian custom of teaching their 
youth '' to ride on hoi'seback, shoot arrows^ and 
speak the truth." 

In the light of subsequent events, I have 
sometimes wondered, if Calhoun had lived fif- 
teen years longer, if he would still have believed 
that the North was running to seed through 
excessive intellectual culture, while the South, 
owing to what he considered its better methods 
of education, was getting a firmer and more 
tenacious grip on public and important practical 
matters, and so gravitating to a sujyerior 
^^ position as to great questions and great 
affairs." 

A little while before the interview termin- 
ated, I asked Mr. Calhoun what kind of a man 
General Jackson was. The effect of the 
question upon him made a profound impression 
upon me. Had I not been so young and inex- 
perienced. I would not — I could not have asked 



JOHN Ci CALHOUN. I7I 

him such a question. It did not occur to me 
that he and Jackson had been inexpressibly 
bitter and relentless foes for many years. As 
soon as the question was put, Calboun sank 
into profound quiescence, seemed to be uncon- 
scious of my presence, and was apparently 
absorbed in introspective memories. Then his 
relations to Jackson flashed vividly into my 
'mind ; I was appalled at my blunder, and 
awaited the result with trepidation. Calhoun's 
revery continued but a short time. Soon he 
looked at me boDignantly, and said : 
" General Jackson was a great man." 
The surpassingly beautiful expression of Cal- 
houn's luminous eyes and the sweet, gentle tone 
of his voice, as he thus answered my question, 
are now present with me, as I write, although 
that answer was given more than forty years 
ago. It seemed as though, in his brief, absorb- 
ing revery, he had reviewed and passed judg- 
ment upon his relations with General Jackson. 
The general was in his grave, and he v/as him- 



172 GREAT SENATORS 

self beginning to be enveloped with the shadow 
of death. Why should he, a dying man, con- 
tinue to hate him who was already dead ? He 
would not continue to hate him. It seemed as 
though this, or something equivalent to it, 
passed through Calhoun's mind, and touched 
the inmost nobility of his nature, and caused 
hnn to give the answer which came from him 
like a renunciation of all his animositv and an 
assertion of spiritual reconciliation with his dead 
foe. 

V. Calhoun's Quarrel with General Jack- 
son, AND ITS RESULT. 

As I became better acquainted with Calhoun, 
I liked him better. At last, I had a genuine 
affection for him, and mourned over what 
seemed to me to have been his poh'tical deca- 
dence ; and I have mourned over it to this hour. 
No young man on this continent ever started on 
a public career with brighter, nobler promise 
than did that gifted, pure-souled young South 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. ^-3 

Carolinian. He was bom in 1782— the same 
year in which Benton, Webster, Martin Yim 
Buren and General Cass were born—Clay being 
five years his senior. He entered Congress in 
1811 and immediately rose to distinction. He 
had a convincing and attractive way of express- 
ing his ideas with both tongue and pen. 

The paragra])h I have given from his report 
on Foreign Eelations shows what a captivating 
style he had. Whatever he did or said was 
popular. During the war of 1812, and down to 
the period of his Yice-Presidency in Jackson's 
first term (1829), Calhoun's course was patriotic, 
brilliant and beneficent. He was as popular in 
the North as in the South. He was an especial 
favorite in New England ; a fact which seems 
strange to us now. He was elected Vice-Presi- 
dent in 182^, when no other candidate was 
elected by the people ; the contest for the Presi- 
dency being thrown into the House of Kepre- 
sentatives, and resulting in the election of John 
Quincy Adams. After Calhoun's re-election as 



174 GREAT SENATORS. 

Vice President, on the Jackson ticket, in 1828, 
he was in the direct hne of the Democratic suc- 
cession to the Presidency. But there came a 
fatal quarrel between him and Old Hickory 
Jackson, and all chance of his further national 
preferment was immediately and forever blight- 
ed. The cause of this quarrel was the disclosure 
of the fact that in 1819 Calhoun, while Secretary 
of War in Monroe's first Administration, had 
filed an opinion condemning Jackson's course in 
Florida. 

It will be remembered that at that time 
Florida was owned by Spain ; that the Span- 
iards incited the Indians to murder the Ameri- 
can settlers in Alabama and Georgia, and that 
there were British emissaries helping the Span- 
iards in this nefarious work ; that Jackson, 
then a major-general in the United States army 
and commander of the Southern division of it, 
was sent to the scene of the outrages to pacifi- 
cate affairs and protect his countrymen, and 
with the understanding that, although the 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. I75 

Government did not wish to appear before the 
world as countenancing extreme measures, it 
would wink at any means of pacification to 
w^hich the commanding general should find it 
necessary to resort ; that General Jackson, on 
arriving at the theatre of operations and finding 
an outrageous state of affairs, began the work 
of ''pacification" with his accustomed energy, 
hung two British emissaries — Arbuthnot and 
Ambrister— stormed some of the Spanish fortifi- 
cations, and soon brought a state of Jacksonian 
peace and safety to pass. Jackson's proceedings 
of course excited the wrath of the British and 
the Spaniards, and threatened to involve the 
United States in war with both Spain and Great 
Britain. His conduct was severely censured in 
Congress, and it was made to appear that he 
had acted without any warrant whatever from 
the Government for his violent course. This 
injustice aroused the old warrior to ungovern- 
able fury, and he threatened to go to Washing- 
ton and cut off the ears of Congressmen who 



176 GREAT SENATORS. 

maligned him. The Administration was called 
upon to discipline the belligerent general, and 
President Monroe asked for written opinions on 
the case from the members of his Cabinet. 
The opiuions were handed in, and all of them, 
except Calhoun's, were in Jackson's favor. 

Those Cabinet opinions were under the seal 
of official secrecy, and nobody outside of the 
Administration knew what they were. But 
Jackson in some way got the idea firmly fixed 
in his mind that Calhoun was the member of 
the Cabinet who took the lead in defending him 
on that critical occasion. That made Jackson 
Calhoun's devoted friend, and caused him to do 
everything he could to secure his advancement. 
It may be imagined, therefore, what a shock 
the disclosure of the truth was to Old Hickory, 
and with what rage it filled him. He imme- 
diately cast off Calhoun as a traitor and hypo- 
crite, and swore everlasting vengeance against 
him. 

How this disclosure, which was so disastrous 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. J77 

to Calhoun, happened to be made, nobody 
seems to know with absokite certainty. Differ- 
ent explanations of it, some of them very 
elaborate, have been published. When I first 
went to Washington, in 1848, the matter was 
still a topic for gossip and discussion, and there 
were hundreds of people who had gone through 
the excitement and turmoil it occasioned, and 
supposed they knew all about it. The general 
run of gossip on the subject was that if the 
Peggy O'Neil scandal and controversy had not 
occurred, the Calhoun disclosure would not 
have been made. Peggy O'Neil was the hand- 
some daughter of a Washington tavern-keeper, 
who married Purser Timberlake of the United 
States navy. Timberlake, died, and his widow 
was wooed and won by General John H. Eaton, 
of Tennessee, who was Jackson's intimate 
friend, and was appointed Secretary of War in 
Jackson's first Cabinet. And thus Peggy O'Neil 
blossomed out into " a Cabinet lady," and was 
eligible to the highest society in Washington. 



178 GREAT SENATORS. 

Unfortunately, there had been derogatory 
rumors about her while she was Mrs. Timber- 
lake. Her husband was absent at sea for many 
months, and she, being attractive and full of 
^Hhe spirit of society,'' received a good deal of 
attention from officers of the army and navy. 
She was talked about in an unpleasant way, and 
had to pay the penalty which is exacted from 
every handsome woman who accepts too much 
homage from other women's husbands while 
her own husband is absent. 

Gossip became still more rife and acrimoni- 
ous when General Eaton married the widow 
Timberlake ; and when, by his becoming Secre- 
tary of War, she became ^' a Cabinet lady," the 
wives of other members of the Cabinet felt that 
a blow had been struck at the honor and prestige 
of their sacred society circle. They met the 
impending calamity with Spartan resolution. 
They announced that they would have no social 
relations 'whatever with Mrs. Eaton i?e'e 'Neil. 
They would not receive calls from her ; they 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 17<) 

would not make calls on her ; they would not 
grace with their presence any social entertain- 
ment which she was permitted to attend. As 
they were upheld by their lady friends, Mrs. 
Eaton was in effect excluded from society. 
The action of the Cabinet ladies was a social 
thunder- clap. It occasioned a prodigious sensa- 
tion. General Jackson was frantic with indig- 
nation and rage at the insult to the wife of his 
bosom friend, General Eaton, and swore, by 
the Eternal, that she should be received by the 
other Cabinet ladies. The contention convulsed 
society. As the contest went on, it became 
apparent that for once Old Hickory had found 
his match. He had conquered the British antl 
the Spaniards and numberless Indian tribes, 
but he could not conquer one httle tribe of 
white women. He was worsted in the fight, 
and other annoying complications being drawn 
into the social and political swirl, the Cabinet 
was re-organized, General Eaton going out of 



180 GREAT SENATORS. 

office, and Mrs. Eaton going out of public 
notice. 

It happened that the husbands of the ladies 
who organized this social war were all particular 
friends to Calhoun. They were in fact known 
as '^ The Calhoun members of the Cabinet." 
General Jackson, animated by his gratitude for 
Calhoun's supposed loyalty to him when his 
enemies were seeking to destroy him in 1819, 
had generously given three of the Vice-Presi- 
dent's partisans places in the Cabinet ; and it 
was the wives of those three Cabinet officers 
who instigated the crusade against the wife of 
the President's friend. And it was said that it 
was to punish Calhoun, and his set, that his 
opinion, hostile to Jackson, was unearthed and 
brought to light. I had several conversations 
on the subject with a son of one of the Calboun 
Cabinet officers. He had heard his father and 
motber and their friends discuss the matter a 
myriad times. They cherished an absolute con- 
viction that the divulgation of Calhoun's opinion 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. |,Sl 

was purposely made by the friends of General 
Eaton to avenge Mrs. Eaton's wrongs. Bnt this 
belief was not universal. Many saw a i)olitical 
manoeuvre in the disclosure, and charged it 
upon Calhoun's political rivals. Van Bnren's 
enemies saw his cunning hand in it ; Calhoun 
believed that Van Buren was the author of the 
disclosure ; and color was lent to his belief by 
the fact that Van Buren was the chief gainer by 
the rupture between the President and Vice- 
President. He displaced Calhoun in the line of 
political succession, and fell heir to the presi- 
dency, which, previous to the rupture, was com- 
ing straight to Calhoun. This led to a hfelong 
estrangement between those two distinguished 
Democrats ; and their estrangement led to the 
rejection of Van Buren as a Presidential candi- 
date by the Democratic Convention in 1S44, and 
to his acceptance of the Free-soil nomination, 
and the consequent defeat of General Cass, in 
1848, as narrated in our first chapter. William 
H. Crawford, of Georgia,, was also charged witli 



182 GREAT SENATORS. 

the disclosure of Calhoun's opinion, and so were 
others ; but the popular belief ascribed it to the 
retaliatory vengeance of Mrs. Eaton's friends. 

It is possible that the convulsions of the Mrs. 
Eaton war indirectly helped to erupt the Cal- 
houn opinion from the secret archives of the 
Cabinet, but thus far no absolute proof of the 
precise way in which it was divulged has been 
made public. But divulged it was, and the 
effect upon Calhoun's political career was 
calamitous. He was estranged from the domi- 
nant jiiembers of the Democratic party, and as 
he had no affinities for the Whigs, his only 
resource was to develop a party of his own ; 
and that he at once set about doing. How he 
did it. and what terrible results came of it, are 
matters of general history. 

In order to carry out his determination Cal- 
houn had to bring about a fundamental change 
in the opinion of the South as to slavery. Up 
to that time it was generally conceded that 
slavery was a moral and political evil, a vast, 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 2^3 

ineradicable national cancer which the country 
must bear and suffer under as best it might. 
Calhoun set at work to " correct this erroneous 
notion," and, so far as the South was concerned, 
he accomplished his purpose. In a powerful 
speech which he made in the Senate in 1837, on 
resolutions with regard to slavery introduced by 
himself, he said : 

" This agitation has produced one happy 
eifect, at least — it has compelled us of the South 
to look into the nature and character of this 
great institution, [slavery,] and to correct many 
false impressions that even we had entertained 
in relation to it. Many in the South once 
believed that it was a moral and political evil. 
That follij and delusion are gone. We see it 
now in its true light, and regard it as the most 
safe and stable basis for free institutions in the 
world. It is impossible with us that the conflict 
can take place between labor and capital, which 
makes it so difficult to establish and maintain 
free institutions in all wealthy and highly civil- 



184: GREAT SEISATORS. 

ized nations, where such institutions as ours do 
not exist. The Southern States are an aggre- 
gate, in fact, of communities, not of individuals. 
Every plantation is a little community, with the 
master at its head, who concentrates in himself 
the united interest of capital and labor, of which 
he is the common representative. The small 
communities aggregated make the State in all, 
whose action, labor, and capital is equally repre- 
sented and perfectly harmonised." 

In the course of this speech, Calhoun said 
that "a mysterious Providence had brought 
together two races, from different portions of 
the globe, and placed them together in nearly 
equal numbers in the Southern portion of this 
Union ; " to which Clay replied that ' ' to call a 
generation of slave-trading pirates (who 
brought the negroes to this country) ' a mysteri- 
ous Providence,' was an insult to the Supreme 
Being." Clay's reply was admired, but it did 
not lessen the influence of Calhoun's speech in 
the South. 



JOHK C. CALHOUN. jg5 

VI. Calhoun's Fascination in Personal In- 
tercourse. 

After that New Year s day, 1849, I occasion- 
ally met Mr. Calhoun, and every time I had an 
opportunity to hear him converse and to study 
his character, my appreciation of him Avas 
strengthened. He was hy all odds the most 
fascinating man in private intercourse that I 
ever met. His conversational powers were 
marvelous. His voice was clear, sweet and 
mellow, with a musical, metallic ring in it which 
gave it strength without diminishing its sweet- 
ness. His pronunciation and enunciation were 
perfect. His manner was simple and unpre- 
tentious. He talked on the most abstruse 
subjects with the guileless simplicity of a 
prattling child. His ideas were so clear and his 
language so plain that he made a path of light 
through any subject he discussed. 

Harriet Martineau said, a dozen or fifteen 
years before the period (181:9) of which I am 



186 GREAT SENATORS. 

writing, that '' Calhoun's mind had lost the 
power of communicating with other minds." I 
can understand how a stranger might get that 
impression of Calhoun. There were at least 
two Calhouns, perhaps there were several. 
That is to say, his ideas and sentiments on 
different subjects were so differentiated, so 
sharply defined, and so rigidly separated from 
one another, that the man himself seemed to be 
a different personage at different times, accord- 
ing to the question or subject before him. His 
faculties were not compacted into a mental or 
psychological nation ; they were simply a con- 
federacy, and every one of them was a sovereign 
faculty, which could think and act for itself, 
independently of all the rest. His convictions 
on the subject of slavery were as fixed and 
unchangeable as an elementary principle of 
nature ; and, as to them, his mind was incapable 
of exchanging ideas with other minds. That 
portion of his mind was a hermit, and it led a 
hermit's existence ; and if Miss Martineau 



JOHN C. CALHOUK. l^Y 

attempted to intrude into that hermit's cell, she 
found it impossible to communicate with its 
occupant. 

Calhoun's kindness of heart was inexhaust- 
ible. He impressed me as being deeply but 
unobtrusively religious, and was so morally 
clean and spiritually pure that it was a pleasure 
to have one's soul get close to his soul — a feeling 
that I never had for any other man. He 
seemed to exhale an atmosphere of purity, 
as fresh and sweet and bracing as a breeze from 
the prairie, the ocean, or the mountain — an 
atmosphere which one could safely breathe all 
in and be better and purer from the inspiration. 
He was inexpressibly urbane, refined, gentle, 
winning ; and yet he was strong and thorough- 
ly manly, with an elegant and engaging invin- 
cibleness pervading his softness and gentleness. 
I admired Benton ; I admired Clay still more ; 
I admired Webster, on the intellectual side, 
most of all ; but I loved Calhoun ; and as I 
came to know him well, and saw his exquisitely 



188 GREAT SENATORS. 

beautiful nature mirrored in his face, his 
countenance no longer seemed Satanic, but 
angelic, and his benignant greeting in the 
morning was like a benediction that lasted the 
whole day. 

It is believed that Calhoun's political life 
was so embittered that he got no comfort out of 
it, and that it grew less and less satisfactory as 
he drew near its end ; but in private and social 
relations he was blessed with strongest and 
most disinterested friendships, and his last days 
were enriched and sweetened by 

" That best portioD of a good man's life, 
His little, nameless, unremembered acts 
Of kindness and of love." 



My acquaintance, at the age when my 
character was in process of development and 
formation, with John C. Calhoun and Jefferson 
Davis was of incomputable benefit to me. The 
fact that of all the distinguished men I saw 



JOHN C. CALHOUN. 181) 

in Washington, the two whose pohtical course 
was the most obnoxious to me were the very- 
two whom I most hked personally, had then 
and afterwards a powerful effect upon my 
mind, my heart and my life. And this effect 
was deepened by the fact that some of those 
with whose political principles I most keenly 
sympathized were the ones whose personal 
characters were the most distasteful to me. 
The struggles of mind and the travail of spirit 
which the conflicting thoughts and emotions 
consequent upon such a state of things occa- 
sioned in me, caused me to be born again as to 
my notions of public men and pubhc affairs. I 
learned to distinguish between a man's pohtical 
principles and his i^ersonal character, and there 
was developed in me a disposition to extend to 
the convictions and conduct of others the same 
forbearance and charity which every man likes 
to have accorded to his own conduct and con- 
victions. 



190 GREAT SENATORS. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Thomas H. Benton. 

I. Bektojt's hatred of Calhoux. — The Great 
South Carolinian and the Great 

MiSSOURIAN contrasted. 

Notwithstanding Calhoun's lovable charac- 
ter, he had at least one bitter and relentless foe 
— Thomas H. Benton, of Missouri. Benton 
was called the Great Missouiian ; Calhoun, the 
Great South Carolinian ; and their natures 
differed more and were more widely sundered 
than their respective States. Indeed, it would 
be difficult to find two other co-temporaiy 
Americans, of equal distinction, so absolutely 
contrasted in body, mind, principles, tastes and 
manners as were Benton and Calhoun. Cal- 



THOMAS H. BENTON. 19)^ 

houii was slender and delicate of frame; Benton 
was massive and mnscular. Calhoun was 
speculative, theoretical and philosophical ; Ben- 
ton was matter of -fact, statistical and practical. 
Calhoun was sympathetic, sensitive and con- 
siderate ; Benton was cold, hard and ruthless. 
To rub Calhoun's nature against Benton's was 
like rubbing the tender skin of an infant against 
the corrugated hide of a rhinocerous. And 
then Calhoun sought to destroy the Union, 
while Benton was a fierce upholder of the 
Union. Pi'evious to his discovery of Calhoun's 
ultimate motives in forcing the doctrines of 
State Kights and the right of secession upon the 
attention of the Sputh, Benton was his friend 
and coadjutor, but as soon as he made that 
discovery he began to dislike him, and when he 
became convinced that Calhoini would be glad 
to have the Union destroyed, he made open 
war upon him ; and from that time the Great 
Missourian hated the Great South Carolinian 
with rancorous and unappeasable hatred. 



192 GREAT SENATOES. 

II. How TO ESTIMATE CHARACTER. 

In estimating a man's character, and in 
passing judgment upon his conduct, we should 
keep in mind what the psychologists and bio- 
logists call liis heredity and his environment. 
According to the doctrine on this subject, a 
man's heredity, or inborn nature, comes to him 
through his parents, from his entire line of 
ancestry, and is set in him beyond the power of 
elementary change. The elements of character 
that are born in him may be developed or 
withered, but they can not be changed any 
more than the functions of his senses can be 
changed. The sense of seeing cannot be 
changed into the sense of hearing, nor can the 
passion for destroying be changed into the sen- 
timent of benevolence. Either of these elemen- 
tary traits may be sti'engthened by cultivation 
or weakened by neglect, but it cannot be 
changed into anything else. The sum of one's 
character will depend on the relative develop- 



THOMAS II. BENTON. 1 93 

ment, neglect or suppression of its inboni 
elements ; and his environment— which is thr 
sum of all the influences which act u])on liis 
heredity— is the medium through which and by 
which the development, neglect, or suppression 
of the inborn elements is brought to pass. 

A tragic incident which occurred thirty-five 
years ago in a remote section of what is now 
West Virginia, may help persons who are not 
familiar with the theory of heredity and envi- 
ronment, to get some notion of it. A family 
named Russell undertook to domesticate a 
young bear and to change its carnivorous 
heredity into a herbivorous proclivity. Mr. 
Russell was an advocate of vegetarianism. He 
believed that most of the evils of human nature 
come of eating too much meat. He imagined 
that the ferocity of the carnivori was owing to 
their habitual flesh diet, and that it might be 
extinguished by a prolonged course of vegeta- 
rian discipline. Having caught an unweaned 
bear cub, he determined to demonstrate the 



194 GREAT SENATORS. 

correctness of his theory. So the creature was 
fed on milk, sweet corn, pumpkins, berries, and 
fruits of all kinds. It was not permitted to 
have any meat. It grew rapidly, and was so 
playful and amiable it seemed as though Mr. 
EusselFs theory was going to be demonstrated 
beyond all cavil. It was the custom, when 
evening approached, to chain the bear to a post 
on the lawn, lest it should wander off in the 
night. One evening, Mr. Eussell's eldest boy, 
a fine lad of fifteen years, who had been hunt- 
ing, came home with a string of birds and 
squirrels that he had shot. In passing the 
bear's post, the boy stopped to have a little play. 
The bear, smelling the blood of the. birds and 
squirrels, attempted to seize them with his 
teeth ; whereupon the boy struck him over the 
nose with the string of game. This awakened 
the animal's sleeping heredity ; and springing 
upon the boy he began to devour him before the 
eyes of his mother, who stood on the piazza 
and shrieked for help. Mr. Eussell and several 



THOMAS H. BENTON. 195 

field hands hearing her cries, rushed to the si)()t, 
but they were too late to save the boy. The 
bear was immediately killed ; and thus ended 
the .attem[)t to change the heredity of a carniv- 
orous beast to the traits of a herbivorous animal, 
by means of a vegetarian environment. 

This doctrine of heredity and environment, 
when rightly understood, explains many social 
phenomena which, without its a^.d, are incom- 
prehensible. For example, a man who for 
years has been trusted by a whole connnunity 
—who has been the faithful executor of many 
wills and the faithful guardian of many 
orplians— suddenly runs away with the funds 
entrusted to his care, and everybody is aghast 
at the unaccountable occurrence. How could 
such a thing have happened ? is the universal 
exclamation. It could happen just as that 
vegetarian bear could so unexpectedly devour 
that boy. The carnivorous appetite was heredi- 
tary in the bear and manifested itself the 
moment it received sufficient provocation. So, 



196 GREAT SENATORS. 

too, the thieving, robbing, defrauding prodivity 
was hereditary in that good man, but was kept 
in abeyance by his environment until an over- 
mastering opportunity provoked it into action, 
and the phenomenally trustworthy man ran 
away with the trust money. Any unexpected 
outburst of vice or break down of character on 
the one hand, or any exhibition of noble traits 
which a person was not suspected of possessing 
on the other hand, can be readily explained by 
the application of this theory. In fact, it 
covers the entire range of the development of 
human character ; and now let us see how it 
works in explaining the personal characteristics 
of Colonel Benton. 

III. Benton's Character. 

Benton's heredity, both as to j^hysique and 
mentality, was peculiar and striking. He was 
born with characteristics resembling those of 
the bear, the bull and the eagle. He was 
ferocious, brave, keen- sighted and high-soaring. 



THOMAS H. BENTON. 19^ 

In mind, dignity and patriotism he was a 
Roman Senator of the highest type ; and in 
physique, temper and ferocity he was a Eoman 
gladiator, who somehow had become imbedded 
in the nineteenth century. He had large bones, 
which were covered with thick and hard mus- 
cles. He was about five feet and ten inches in 
height, had broad shoulders, a deep chest, large 
hips and strong limbs. His head, which was of 
great size, was largest at the base. All the 
animal propensities, especially those which give 
cunning and courage, were powerfully devel- 
oped. His courage was so predominant and 
combative, that he seldom cared to resort to 
cunning to compass his ends ; but when he did 
undertake to play Indian, no savage that ever 
infested the wilderness could cope with him. 

His organs of observation were large and 
active, and his firmness and self-esteem were so 
prominently developed that his massive head 
ran up to a peak like the Island of Teneriffe. 
His countenance w^as romanesque, with the 



198 GREAT SENATORS. 

blended expression of the eagle and the lion. It 
is doubtful if we ever had a man in public life, 
in America, equal to Colonel Benton in physical 
strength, endurance and courage, in toughness 
and elasticity of constitution, and in mental and 
moral fortitude. There have been men who 
equalled, and perhaps excelled him in some of 
these qualities, but nobody else has exhibited m 
such an admirable combination of them all. 

Benton's early training, and in fact the 
environment of all the first half of his life, was 
such as would bring all his natural traits to 
their fullest development. He was born in 
1Y82, in an obscure hamlet in North Carolina. 
When he was eight years old his father died, 
and his widowed mother removed to Tennessee. 
He had little opportunity to go to school, but he 
studied hard at home in the evening, after the 
day's duties had been done. Fortunately, his 
mother was a refined, pious, God-fearing woman, 
who brought up her fatherless children in the 
nurture and admonition of tlie Lord. Benton's 



THOMAS H. BENTON. ^99 

religion, though it modified his heredity, could 
not change it. He was a robust and ferocious 
Christian — just the kind for his day and gener- 
ation. As he grew to manhood, he was more or 
less engaged in fighting Indians and wild beasts 
and half -wild neighbors. After a time he stud- 
ied law and entered the slightly more civilized 
arena of the bar, where foes did not tomahawk 
and scalp, but only knifed and pistolled one 
another. In that wild life, the great law of the 
survival of the fittest was inexorably supreme ; 
and the fittest, of course, meant the fittest foi" 
til at kind of life. Benton was one of the fittest. 
He survived and thrived ; he even survived a 
desperate personal encounter with Old Hickory 
Jackson in the streets of Nashville ; and so far 
as I know he was the only man that ever did 
survive a personal fight with Old Hickory. 

In 1815 Benton went to Missouri, then a 
Territory, inhabited by a fierce population, 
where his fights continued, with the usual 
result. What that result was may be inferred 



200 GREAT SENATORS. 

from a declaration he made in the Senate, after 
a Senator had referred to what he called "a quar- 
rel" of Benton's. ''Mr. President, sir," said 
the Great Missourian sternly, ''the Senator is 
mistaken, sir. I never quarrel, sir ; but I some- 
times fight, sir ; and whenever I fight, sir, a 
funeral follows, sir !" 

Missouri was admitted to the Union in 1820, 
and Benton was at once elected United States 
Senator from that State, and took his seat in 
March, 1821. He was re-elected four times in 
succession, and so served as Senator thirty years 
continuously, his last term expiring March 3rd, 
1851. When he entered the United States Sen- 
ate, he was within a few days of his fortieth 
year and his character had been formed and 
fixed. What that character w^as, the reader 
can imagine, if he w^ill recall to mind what 
Benton's heredity was, and how it had 
been acted upon and developed by his whole 
hard, struggling, wild, contentious life. And 
in passing judgment upon a man's life, we must 



THOMAS H. BENTON. 901 

remember that he is to be judged according to 
his character and not according to our charactei", 
according to the time in which he hved and not 
according to the time in which we hve, and 
according to the circumstances which environed 
him and not according to those which surround 
us. 

Benton, as I have said, was a Eoman gladi- 
ator in body and temper. It was his custom to 
bathe and scrub down his body to his hips every 
morning, and from his hips to his feet every 
afternoon. The implement he used was the 
roughest kind of a horsehair brush ; and witli 
this his body servant would curry him down 
with all his migbt. A friend, who saw the 
brush, shook his head over it, whereupon Ben- 
ton grimly said : " Why, sir, if I were to iouch 
you with that brush, sir, you would cry nuu'der, 
sir." On being asked why he thus scrubbed 
half of his body in the morning and the otlier 
half in the afternoon, he replied : "The Roman 
gladiators did it, sir." Under this treatment, 



202 GREAT SENATOKS. 

his skin had become a sheath of leather, devoid 
of sensibihty, and shutting him out from sym- 
pathy ^'ith the sensibihties of others. Meta- 
phorically, as well as physically, he was prob- 
ably the thickest skinned man of his time. 
This enabled him to go scathless through 
contests from which others would come out 
with sorely wounded spirits and bleeding hearts. 

IV. Benton's Characteristics as a Debater. 

Seemingly, Benton was indifferent alike to 
praise or blame. But he was capable of intense 
wrath when he thought that any project of his 
own, or any public matter in which he took an 
interest, was unfairly treated. And when he 
was thoroughly roused to anger, he was most 
dangerous ; for he never lost his self possession, 
and always used his anger as a wrath-power 
wherewith to propel his mental machinery. He 
spoke with deliberation, and was noted for his 
short, emphatic, incisive sentences. He had a 
biting wit, and a grim humor, which were 



THOMAS H. BENTON. '^o" 

pleasant to everybody except the victims of 
them. When he wanted to torture an opponiiiit, 
he had a way of elevating his voice into a rasp- 
ing squeal of sarcasm which was intolerably 
exasperating and sometimes utterly maddening. 
The word sir was a formidable missile on his 
tongue, and he brought it into play with a 
frequency which nothing but his powerful utter- 
ance and commanding manner prevented f joni 
becoming absurd. He had a way of repeating 
a sentence over and over and over, with slight 
variations, which was exceedingly effective. 

In the debate on the petition from the people 
of New Mexico to be protected from the intro- 
duction of slavery into that Teriitory, which I 
heretofore said (see page 149) brought Callioun 
to his feet, and the preparation of whicli was 
instigated by Benton, Senator Westcott, of 
Florida, in commenting adversely on the peti- 
tion, read portions of it to illustrate his argu- 
ment. In thus reading from the petition he 
inadvertently read the phrase, ''the people of 



204 GREAT SENATORS. 

New Mexico " twice, and omitted the following 
phrase, by which an erroneous idea of the 
nature of the petition was given. Benton at 
once arose, and majestically reaching forth his 
hand to Westcott, who stood near him, he 
imperiously said : . 

*' Will you hand me that petition, sir?" 
Senator Westcott, taken by surprise, spon- 
taneously handed over the petition. Benton 
took it, and turning towards Vice President 
Dallas, who was presiding over the Senate, said : 
'' Mr. President, sir, I wish to read the words 
that the Senator from Florida left out. He read 
it twice, sir, as a petition from the people of 
New Mexico. He read' it twice, sir, as relating 
to the people of New Mexico, and he read, sir, 
Hhe people of New Mexico 'twice — [laughtei-] — 
twice, sir, and by reading it twice he thought 
himself entitled to leave out the few followiug 
words." Benton hurled "the people of New 
Mexico, twice, sir," like a missile at the oppo- 
nents of the petition. On every repetition of the 



THOMAS II. BENTON. 2(1;") 

word " twice " his voice struck a higher key and 
rang out with increased power ; his mighty arm 
swept through the air with majestic gesticula- 
tion, his eyes blazed, his massive form dilated 
and towered with indignation, and he lookcHl 
as though he was ready to sink the Senator in 
the gladiator at the slightest physical provo- 
cation. 

Benton's peculiar mental formation made 
him mighty on the plane of physical affairs. 
He knew the material resources of the country, 
and everything thereunto appertaining, by 
heart. He behoved in solid, material things, 
and hated whatever was flimsy or flabby. 
Speculative projects found no favor with him ; 
to Avin his support, a scheme had to be sound 
from end to end and all over substantial. 

Benton was not an eloquent speaker, but he 
was always interesting. His speeches were 
packed with facts and fiUed with information. 
His grim wit and mocking sarcasm gave a pun- 
gent relish to his style which was exceedingly 



206 GREAT SEXATORS. 

agreeable. The indomitable old Indian lighter 
was usually apparent in his niauner : and meta- 
phorically speaking it was easy to detect the 
whir of the tomahawk and the gleam of the 
scalping knife in his acrid sentences. He did 
not confine himself strictly to the question in 
debate, but struck out into any by -path of ani- 
madversion in which he scented game, looking- 
for scalps in sequestered issues and dealing 
blows at every head lie could find. Sometimes he 
would ramble on in a discursive way for hours, 
and make a speech that would fill six, eight, or 
ten columns of the InteUigencer : and then, 
after the speech had been written out, he would 
expunge all the extraneous matter it contained, 
so it Would make only two or three columns in 
print. The reporters, being paid by the column, 
did not like his curtailments. I remember, on 
one occasion, that my report of a portion of one 
of his speeches made four colunms, and he cut 
it down to a column and a half. It was difficult 
for an impecunious young reporter to feel friend- 



THOMAS H. BENTON. 207 

;• ly towards a great man who was accustomed to 
• behave in such a ruthless manner as that. 

V. His Egotism 

The most marked trait of Benton's character 
was his egotism, which was so conspicuous that 
it could not escape the notice of the most indif- 
ferent observer. Egotism is usually offensive 
and almost invariably excites disgust. But Ben- 
ton's egotism was so vast, so towering, so part and 
parcel of the man, that it was not at all offen- 
sive, and never excited disgust. On the contrary, 
it excited admiration and gave the beholder of 
it pleasure. One could not help feeling that the 
old ironclad's egotism was a sort of national 
institution in which every patriotic American 
could take a just pride ; that his egotism was as 
proper to him as its apex is to a pyramid ; that, 
in fact, it had come to pass through a natural 
and fitting process of evolution, and was simply 
the harmonious apex of his pyramidal character. 
Benton's egotism pervaded him utterly, and was 



/ 



208 GREAT SENATORS. 

apparent in everything which he said or did. It 
made Benton the centre of the universe to Ben- 
ton — the central force which moved all things, 
the central orb around which all other orbs 
revolved. In his opinion, whatever public 
matter he had to do with at all, took its shape 
entirely from his touch, and its success was 
owing to him exclusively. It is well known 
that General Jackson, while he was President, 
destroyed the United States Bank ; and it is 
universally believed that no man but General 
Jackson had the nerve to begin an attack upon 
that ^'Financial Monster," as the bank was 
called. Benton, with others, took sides with 
Jackson against the bank. Years afterwards, 
when Jackson was dead, a gentleman who was 
walking with Benton in Washington remarked, 
as they passed the equesti'ian statue of the gen- 
eral, that Jackson was a very wonderful man, 
to which Benton responded : 

"Yes, sir; General Jackson was a great 
man, sii' — a very great man, sir. He was of 



THO^IAS H. BENTON. 209 

great use to me, sir, in my war upon the United 
States Bank, sir." 

When Benton's great work, " Thirty Years 
in the United States Senate," was about to 
come from tl"ie press, its pubhshers, (the Apple- 
tons,) sent a messenger to him to get his views 
as to the number of copies that should be 
pi'inted. The messenger having presented the 
case, the old man loftily said : 

*'Sir, they can ascertain from the last 
census how many persons there are in the 
United States who can read, sir ;" and that 
was the only suggestion he would condescend 
to make. That he believed his book would be 
iviid by everybody who could read at all, I have 
no doubt. He supposed that whatever he said 
or wi-ote was eagerly sought for by all sorts of 
people. An amusing proof of this is given in 
the very book in question. In an autobi- 
ographical sketch which serves .as an intro- 
duction to the work, Benton, in speaking of his 
public career, says : 



210 GREAT SEKATORS. 

''From that time [the date of Benton's first 
election to the Senate] his h'fe was in the public 
eye, and the bare enumeration of the measures 
of which he was the author and the prime 
promoter, would be almost a history of Con- 
gress Legislation. The enumeration is unneces- 
sary here ; the long list is known throughout 
the length and breadth of the land — repeated 
with the familiarity of household words from 
the great cities on the seaboard to the lonely 
cabins on the frontier — and studied by the 
little boys who feel an honorable ambition 
beginning to stir within their bosoms, and a 
laudable desire to learn something of the history 
of their country." 

Such immeasurable and self -blinding egotism 
as that fairly takes one's breath away. The 
idea of the little boys of the country devoting 
their spare time to the reading of Thomas H. 
Benton's Congressional speeches, reports and 
bills, is a conception so transcendently egotisti- 
cal that one's powers of description and 



THOMAS H. BENTON. ^H 

characterization wilt before it. It is nut 
probable that any little boy ^' from the cities 
on the seaboard to the lonely cabins on the 
frontier " ever read a dozen pages of anything 
wliich came from Benton's tongue or pen ; nor 
is it likely that one adult in ten thousand is 
familiar with his works. 

In the autumn of 1870 I was in St. Louis, 
and embraced the opportunity to talk with 
some of Benton's old neighbors. They were 
ready enough to talk about him, and I heard a 
few anecdotes that were so characteristic of 
him, that I seemed to hear his voice and see 
his imperious bearing in them. .Many years 
before, when the Czar Nicholas was the most 
conspicuous personage in Europe, some one 
was telHng how strangers knelt in his presence. 
On finishing the narrative the speaker said to 
Benton : 

''I suppose. Colonel, that you would not 
think of kneeling to the Czar ?" to which he 
responded, with his most imperial emphasis : 



212 GREAT SENATORS. 

' ' No, sir ! No, sir ! An American kneels 
only to God and woman, sir." 

In 1856 Benton was running for Governor 
of Missouri, (he left the Senate in 1851,) against 
an opponent named Trusten Polk. They can- 
vassed the State, and on one occasion, when 
Benton stepped forward to speak, he began by 
saying, in a meditative style : 

''T-r-usten Polk! T-r-u-s-ten Polk! A 
man that nobody trusts ; a knave in politics 
and a hypocrite in religion !" 

A few years before, (I think it was in 1852 
or '51,) Benton was running for Congress in 
Missouri. He and his rival met several times 
in public debate before their constituents. On 
one occasion his opponent indulged in some 
severe remarks upon Benton's integrity, or 
rather lack of integrity, and insinuated charges 
of a defamatory character. Benton arose, 
walked up to him, and after looking him fierce- , 

ly in the eye for a moment, shook his fist in his 

■ 

face, and shouted : 



THOMAS H. BENTON. 9 13 



a -XT. 



You lie, sir ! You lie, sir ! I cram tlie lie 
down your throat, sir !" 

This occasioned the intensest feelinu-. 
Everybody expected that Benton would be 
shot, or stabbed at once, or at least challenged 
to mortal cumbat on the spot. But nothing of 
the kind occurred. His rival, it seems, hadn't 
any game blood in his veins. He turned pale, 
and attempted to go on with his speech. But 
tlie Missouri auditors turned their backs on him 
in disgust. They w^ould not listen to a man 
wiio w^ould submit to such an insult as that, 
and Benton had it all his own way during the 
remainder of the canvass. 

A short time after Calhoun's death, a friend 
said to Benton, ''I suppose, Colonel, you won't 
pursue Calhoun beyond the grave?" to which he 

replied : 

'^No, sir. When God Almighty lays his 
hand upon a man, sir, I take mine off, sir." 



214: GREAT SENATORS. 



VI. The better side of Benton's character. 

Thus far, Benton has not appeared in an 
amiable Hght. But he had his good side, and 
many attractive characteristics. He was hon- 
est and high toned. He was indomitably patii- 
otic. He stood by the old flag. He had grand 
and chivalric ideas as to his public duty. As a 
Senator of the United States, his country was 
his only client, and he never took a fee for 
prosecuting a claim against her, nor lent his 
name or influence to help any one get into her 
treasury. He was a staunch friend of the poor 
— of poor blacks, as well as poor whites. While 
he was a young man, and a member of the 
Tennessee Legislature, he procured the passage 
of a bill giving the right of trial by jury to 
slaves. It was largely through his exertions 
that the public lands were thrown open to the 
people, that the right of pre-emption was 
secured to actual settlers on the public domain, 



I 



THOMAS H. BENTON. 



215 



and that the interests of pioneers and frontier- 
men were measurably protected against greedy 
and soulless speculators. 

Benton was as true to his family and his 
friends as he was to his country. He could not 
be otherwise. Whatsoever or whomsoever he 
cared for, became an object of solicitude to him, 
and was sure of his sympathy and protection. 
His family affections were very strong, and his 
loyalty to all domestic relations was true and 
chivalric. An anecdote which somewhat illus- 
trates this phase of his character was told to 
me by an intimate friend of Benton's, who was 
a Avitness of the scene described. Mrs. Benton's 
mind became impaired by a paralytic stroke, 
but she always recognized her husband, and 
was fond of being near him. A French prince, 
wliose name I do not remember, was visiting 
this country, and several distinguished residents 
of St. Louis becoming acquainted with him, 
they strongly desired to have him meet the 
'' Great Missourian.^' The matter was arranged, 



216 GREAT SENATORS. 

and one evening a select party of Missourians 
called, with the prince, on Benton. As they 
were talking in the parlor, Mrs. Benton came 
to the door, somewhat en deshabiUe, and stood 
gazing at her husband with fond and intense 
admiration. The attention of the company 
being attracted in her direction, Benton turned 
to see what the attraction was. On perceiving 
his poor wife, he immediately arose, went to 
her, took her tenderly by the hand, and leading 
her into the room with the majesty of a demi- 
god, said : '' My dear, Prince So-and-so; Prince, 
Mrs. Benton, sir." Then affectionately placing 
a hassock for her, by the side of his chair, he 
resumed his seat, and leaving one of his hands 
in hers for her to toy with, he went on with 
the conversation with that impressive dignity 
in which it is doubtful if he had an equal. My 
informant added that the prince, taking in the 
situation at a glance, adapted himself to the 
occasion with consummate tact, while all the 
Missourians were affected to tears. 



THOMAS H. BENTON. 217 

This tough and affectionate old gladiator 
died in 1858. He was "Thomas H. Benton, 
sir," to the last gasp. He was eD gaged upon an 
abridgment of the debates in Congress from 
1T89 to 185G, but death cutting him short he 
was able to bring the work down only to the 
great debate on the Compromise Measures, in 
1850. He finished the work by an exhibition of 
fortitude and endurance which was character- 
istic of him. Being too feeble to write, he 
employed an amanuensis, and cairied on the 
work by dictation ; and finally becoming unable 
to speak aloud, he whispered the last few pages 
of the work, as the breath was slowly fading 
from his iron lips. 



218 GREAT SENATORS. 



CHAPTER V. 

Henry Clay. 

I. Some of Clay's distinguishing chakactekis- 

TICS. 

Henry Clay was the tallest of the great Sena- j 
tors of his era, his height being six feet and one 
inch, in his stockings. He was also the most 
brilliant, the most chivalric, and by far the 
most popular. Indeed, his popularity was phe- 
nomenal — incredible to those w^ho v/ere not per- 
sonally cognizant of it ; and he was justly 
entitled to every bit of it. He possessed, in 
remarkable fullness, all the qualities which win 
and retain popularity. He was kind-hearted, 
sympathetic, genial, tender, brave, honest, chiv- 
alric, and always true and loyal to his friends. 
His conscientiousness, hope, benevolence, firm- 
ness, self-esteem and love of approbation were 



HENRY CLAY. 219 

all largely developed and active ; so that he was 
accommodating in friendship, but unyielding in 
principle ; firm but gentle ; at once proud and 
affable ; and both democratic and aristocratic by 
nature and in manner. His good- nature and 
his inborn American democratic-republicanism 
gave a familiar and hail-fellow cast to his greet- 
ings and his intercourse ; but his high-toned, 
chivalric dignity of character pervaded his 
genial familiarity, and kept his associates in 
mind that it was not the familiarity of a common- 
place personage, but that of a high-bred gentle- 
man wlio, from his own inherent graciousness 
and spirit of good fellowship, chose to be thus 
affable. 

This combination of quahties rendered Clay's 
address spontaneously irresistible, and the first 
fascinating impression was made enduring by 
the action of other quahties which are right- 
fully potential with mankind. He had a 
marvelous faculty for seeing everything and 
remembering everything— names, faces, places, 



220 GREAT SENATORS. 

events, scenes, and the topographical features 
of a country through which he traveled. If he 
met a man and spoke with him, he never 
forgot him or the circumstances under which 
they met. After spending a few hours in any 
place through which he passed, he could recall 
its features and peculiarities at any subsequent 
time, however remote, and remember the 
people he met there, and what their vocations 
were, to the minutest particulars. This gave 
him surpassing influence and popularity, inas- 
much as it is pleasant to anybody to be remem- 
bered for years by a distinguished personage. 
The rare qualities mentioned in the preceding- 
paragraph, which Henry Clay possessed in such 
affluent degree, enabled him, naturally and 
without effort, to make the most of these great 
gifts of perception and memory. Nor was it a 
matter of mere selfish policy for him to do so-; 
It was the external outcome of the internal 
man, the spontaneous effluence of the inner 
spirit. He loved every part of his country 



HENRY CLAY 2'JI 

with patriotic fervor, and took an interest in 
every part of it, and in all of its inhabitants, 
and sympathized with them and their pnrsuits. 
He was the great champion of American Indns- 
try, and wherever he saw a blacksmith's foi-gi', 
or a carpenter shop, or a mill, or a factory, or 
a stone quany, or a steam engine, or a printing- 
press, or a mart of commerce, or a farming 
region, his heart thrilled with interest and 
went ont in patriotic affection for the people 
who were at work in all those places. And 
that was one of the chief reasons why he 
remembered such things so well and was so 
fond of talking about them.- His intense, 
vivid, personal and patriotic devotion to the 
industrial affairs of the country, stamped his 
observations of them indelibly upon his memory, 
and kept his interest in them ahve forever ; 
while his broad and generous sympathy with 
working-men gave a magnetic geniality to tlio 
interest he felt in them which was inexpressibly 
attractive and winning to the toilers. 



V 



222 GREAT SENATORS. 

II. Leading characteristic of Clay's Mind — 

His Oratory. 

The leading characteristic of Henry Clay's 
mind was penetration. His perceptive and 
knowing faculties were so enormously devel- 
oped that nothing could escape his alert 
observation. He could instantaneously see 
clear to the bottom of any subject that came 
under his consideration. No sophistry could 
deceive him, no trick of rhetoric could mislead 
him, no sentimental eloquence could impose 
upon him. In controversy he was logical, 
witty, humorous, forcible, sarcastic, eloquent. • 
His style was vehement and impassioned. His 
voice was full, rich, clear, sweet, musical, and 
as inspiring as a trumpet ; it was also so 
penetrating that in the ordinary tones of 
conversation it could be heard further than 
the thick vocal bray of some of his rivals. 
When he became excited in debate, his manner 
was peculiarly knightly, gamy, audacious and 



p 

HENRY ChATi. 00'? 

sometimes arrogant. As he set fortli propo- 
sition after proposition witli increasing energy 
and fire, his tall form would seem to giow 
taller and taller with every new statement, until 
it reached a supernatural height ; his eyes 
flashed and his hair waved wildly about his 
head ; his long arms swept through the air ; 
every lineament of his countenance spoke and 
glowed, until the beholder might imagine that 
lie saw a great soul on fire and expressing 
itself through an organism which spontaneous- 
ly responded to its every emotion. 

The effect of Clay's oratory was much 
enhanced by the peculiar conformation of his 
forehead and that portion of his head which lay 
above it. His perceptive organs projected far 
out, the crown of his head was unusually high, 
and a grand curvilinear line swept from the 
frontal sinus between his eyes to the apex of 
his head. This peculiar conformation gave liim 
a commanding, eagle-like, soaring expression 
which, in combination with his glowing fea- 



224 GREAT SENATORS. 

tures, his blazing eyes and his fiery eloquence, 
sometimes excited the beholder's imagination 
until he seemed to be rising in the air with the 
orator. An accomplished old lady, who had 
known Clay from her childhood, told me that 
she never heard him, in one of his impassioned || 
bursts of eloquence, witliout thinking of the 
lines descriptive of the weird magician in Cole- 
ridge's Kubla Khan : 

" And all shall cry Beware ! Beware ! 
His flashing eyes, his floating hair ; 
Weave a circle round him thrice, 
And close your lips with holy dread." 

The secret of this unique and resistless char- 
acter must be sought in the operation of Henry 
Clay's environment upon his heredity or organic 
structure, which was exceedingly unlike that of 
any other human being. It has been said that 
he was very tall ; he was likewise very thin. 
Such a physical development is usually accom- 
panied with looseness of joints, lankness of 
person, and general bodily awkwardness, weak- 



HEIslRY CLAY. 99- 

ness and flabbiness. But Henry Clay, though 
so tall and so slender, was not afflicted with 
even one of those undesirable characteristics. 
He was perfectly symmetrical from his crown 
to his heels ; his joints were firm and supple ; 
his frame was elastic ; his bodily strength was 
great ; his carriage was graceful and command- 
ing. Of course, there were reasons for this, but 
it is not easy to tell what the reasons were. It 
is not easy to tell just how any human organism 
is built up, nor how any human being comes to 
pass in his totality. It may be said that Clay's 
vital force was so prodigious that, operating 
with liis harmonious temperaments and the 
elevated spiritual nature which he possessed 
from childhood, it sent his form up in graceful 
contour and symmetrical development from 
the sole of his feet to the crown of his head. 
His limbs were long, his body was long, his 
neck was long, and his head was long from the 
base to the crown. And through all this singu- 
lar organism the vital forces coursed in strenu- 



226 GREAT SENATORS. 

Oils, fiery currents, making Henry Clay the 
livest man of whom it is possible to conceive. It 
is difficult, perhaps impossible, to tell just 
exactly how a lily or an oak comes to pass. We 
know that it receives nourishment from the 
earth beneath; and from the sun and air above ; 
that in a general way the eai'th pushes and the 
sun pulls, and in due time there stands the 
lily or the oak. We also know that Henry Clay, 
by virtue of his heredity and the operation of 
his environment upon it, had faculties which, as 
his development went on, took strong hold of 
earthly things, and other faculties which took 
strong hold of heavenly things ; and that the 
earth faculties pushed and the heaven faculties 
pulled until there stood the phenomenal man, 
Harry Clay, of lofty, patriotic, genial, enthusi- 
astic, sunny nature, who won the immeasurable 
admiration of millions of minds and the endur- 
ing affection of millions of hearts. 

In addition to the attractive qualities already 
mentioned, Henrv Clav was an honest man in 



p 

HENRY CLAY. 907 

I 

national affairs, as well as in personal business 
transactions. The people believed in his hon- 
esty, and felt proud of it, and loved him more 
intensel}' because he was honest. Every one is 
familiar with the oft-quoted exclamation which 
he uttered when some of his timid friends 
thought that he was imperilhng his chances for 
the Presidency. "But am I not right?" he 
thundered. '• I'd rather be right than be Presi- 
dent !" And he spoke the truth. He Avould 
rather have been right once than President 
twice. In this respect he differed from his 
rivals, any of whom, it is to be feared, would 
rather have been President once than right 
many times. But Henry Clay belonged to that 
small, inestimable class of great men who care 
more for the integrity of their own souls, imder 
the all-seeing eye of God, than for any degree 
of worldly, success and fame. Directly in line 
with these attractive characteristics there is, in 
an exordium to a celebrated speech of Clay's, 
which I shall by and by quote, an unconscious 



228 GREAT SENATORS. 

revelation of a trait of his character which 
greatly endeared him to his friends. In that 
exordium he speaks of being '^an old man — 
quite an old man. But," he adds, ''it will be 
found that I am not too old to vindicate my 
principles, to stand by my friends, and to 
defend myself." There spoke the inmost heart 
and nature of Henry Clay. First in his solici- 
tude, were his principles ; second, his friends ; 
third and last, himself. 

Clay was industrious and economical, and 
led a simple, abstemious life. He was respect- 
ful and reverent towards religion. He was 
beloved by his friends and believed in by the 
public at large. He, of course, had enemies — 
bitter enemies ; but even they did not doubt 
the sincerity of his patriotism, and they 
respected his genius and his probity. All these 
things added greatly to the effect of his oratory. 
The fact that it was Harry Clay— the chivalric, 
the honest, the patriotic Harry Clay, so beloved 
by his friends, and so respected by his enemies 



HENRY CLAY. 220 

—who was speaking, excited the imagination ..f 
the auditors and stirred them into enthusiasm. 
They felt sure that a great oratorical treat 
was coming; and when he got fairly undt'r 
way in debate, and was aroused by opposition 
and goaded by the attacks of his adversaries, 
his countenance would speak as well as his 
tongue, and his whole body would become elo- 
quent ; and his listeners — or at least the more 
emotional and less logical portion of them — 
captivated by the spell of his fascinating per- 
sonality, would surrender their judgment and 
resign themselves to his will. It used to be 
said that Henry Clay, when pouring forth his 
impassioned streams of oratory, had the most 
looking countenance ever seen on mortal man. 
And so he had. On such an occasion, there 
was no passion of the soul or thought of the 
mind which his countenance did not mii-ror 
forth in rapid succession, as his wonderful 
voice expressed the same thoughts and emotions 
in tones which musically and vividly struck 



230 GREAT SENATORS. 

every cprd of the heart . And yet his language 
was simple, and so was his style, and his dic- 
tion flowed along in a stream of eloquence as 
clear as crystal, which a child could understand, 
and which the most experienced orator would 
listen to with deliglit. 

I am fully conscious that critical readers, 
who are familiar with our parliamentary litera- 
ture but never heard Clay speak, are ready to 
ask : '^ If Henry Clay's speeches were so very 
wonderful and captivating, why is it that 
nobody ever reads any of them now ?" The 
answer to that question is that Henry Clay's 
speeches derived their irresistible power from his 
irresistible personality. It was that- -his person, 
ality which took people captive. He spoke to an 
audience very much as an ardent lover speaks 
to his sweatheart when pleading for her hand. 
Everybody knows that the more successful a 
lover's speech is on such an occasion, the less 
readable it is when it gets into cold print. The 
lover speaks for the purpose of carrying his 



I 



HENRY CLAY. ^.^^ 

point and winning liis cause just then and 
thei-e, and is content with immediate success. 
It was the same with Henry Clay. He spoke 
to win his cause right there and then and gain 
a favorable verdict on the spot ; and no lover 
was ever more ardent, more vehement, more 
impassioned, or more successful in his appeal 
than Clay ; and he was content with his im- 
mediate success. 

Clay could tell an anecdote in a captivating 
way. There was a freedom, a sweep, an 
elegance in his anecdotal style which was very 
taking. One of the anecdotes he was fond of 
telling related to an incident which occurred in 
Kentucky when he was abroad, in 1814, 
acting as Commissioner in negotiating the 
treaty of Ghent. He used to tell the story for 
the purpose of illustrating how readily and 
triumphantly a Kentucky stump speaker could 
encounter an emergency and surmount an 
obstacle. Clay, while abroad, was in the habit 
of writing letters to his friends at home giving 



232 GREAT SENATORS. 

them an account of the progress of the 
negotiation of the treaty. When a letter from 
him arrived in Lexington, the news of its 
reception would be circulated, and his neigh- 
bors would assemble to hear it read. In one 
of his letters, which was read to an out-door 
crowd by a veteran politician, Clay used the 
phrase sine qua non several times. At the 
third repetition of the phrase, an old man, 
wearing a hunting shirt, who stood on the edge 
of the crowd, called out to the reader : 
'^Say, Gineral, what's siner quer non?" 
The '' Gineral " had no idea what the phrase 
meant, but he was one of the kind who are 
always equal to the occasion, and elevating his 
voice to its utmost pitch, he shouted : 

'' Sine qua non is an island in Passama- 

quoddy Bay, and Henry Clay goes for Sine qua 
non !" 

This declaration w^as received with enthu- 
siastic applause, and Henry Clay's great 
reputation among his neighbors as a patriotic 



1 



HENRY CLAY. 233 

and unflinching upholder of his countiy's 
rights against Great Britain became greater 
than ever. 

III. Clay's Chief Fault in Debate—His 
Collision with Calhoun. 

Clay's chief fault in debate was his arro- 
gance, and his readiness, under strong excite- 
ment, to say something so insulting that an 
opponent had no alternative except to challenge 
him, or treat him with silent disdain. A 
memorable instance of this kind occurred in 
a bitter and exciting contest which he had 
Avith Calhoun, in 183S. Calhoun had coalesced 
with Clay and the Whigs for several years in 
their opposition to what they called the 
despotism of President Jackson ; but soon after 
Jackson's successor (Van Buren) began to 
develop his policy, Calhoun signified his inten- 
tion to support the Administration in opposition 
to the Whigs. This annoyed Clay, because it 
interfered with schemes of attack upon Van 



4 



234 GREAT SENATORS. 

Buren's Administration, which he was maturing. ^ 
Being thus annoyed, he assailed Calhoun with 
great acrimony, goaded him with charges of 
political vacillation, and taunted him with 
sarcastic allusions to his alleged personal 
tergiversations. This attack provoked the 
urhane South Carolinian to retort severely ; 
and he reminded Clay that in 1833, during the 
nullification contest, he (Calhoun) had over- 
mastered the Senator from Kentucky, and had 
him fiat on his back. This was a legitimate 
and parliamentary retort on the part of 
Calhoun, but Clay took it as a personal affront, 
and when he rose to reply he was furious. 
Shaking his long, bony finger at Calhoun, he 
exclaimed, in tones of passionate resentment : 

'^Mr. President, he my master! I would 
not own him for a slave !" 

In those days, and in the society in which 
Clay and Calhoun moved, the report of a duel- 
ling pistol was the only voice with which such 
an insult could be answered ; and as Calhoun 



,. HENRY CLAY. oo-. 

[t was incapable of being a duellist, a silence of 
years fell between those great men ; a silence 
which was not broken until Clay took leave of 
the Senate, as he supposed forever, in 1842. On 
that occasion he referred to his unfortunate 
liabit of undue excitement in debate, and made 
such a manly and touching apology for all his 
offences against parliamentary decorum that 
there was hardly a dry eye in the Senate cham- 
ber ; and Calhoun, leaving his seat, walked over 
to Clay and extended his hand, which was cor- 
dially taken, and they were thenceforth friend?. 
It must have been an impressive and affecting 
scene when those courtly Senatorial champions 
thus clasped hands after an estrangement which 
had lasted for vears. Each was a perfect mas- 
ter of all the arts of courtesy and salutation, 
but differed sharply in spirit and manner. This 
difference of spirit and manner was apparent in 
the reception they accorded to strangers who 
were introduced to them. Clay, while formally 
polite and courteous, was so captivatingly 



236 GREAT SENATORS. 

democratic in his hearty and sympathetic spirit 
of fellowship, that a stranger, however humble 
in station, at once felt at home with the affable 
and cordial Kentuckian ; while Calhoun, 
although equally polite and courteous, was so 
thoroughly aristocratic in his exquisite urbanity, 
that a stranger, while charmed with his genial 
and benignant greeting, yet felt that there was 
a barrier between him and the stately South 
Carolinian which, though slight as gossamer, 
was as impenetrable as granite. 

IV. The way in w^hich Calhoun, Benton, Clay 
AND Webster greeted Strangers. 

The dispositions of the four great Senators— 
Calhoun, Benton, Clay and Webster— were 
indicated by their treatment of sti^angers who 
were introduced to them. It was customary 
for strangers in Washington to seek introduc- 
tions to these distinguished men. and every 
Eepresentative in Congress was expected by 
his visiting constitutents to procure them such 



HENRY CLAY. 237 

introdactions. I witnessed many of these pre- 
sentations. The usual form was: "Mi-. , 

permit me to introduce to you Mr. Jorkins, one 
of my constituents." I have akeady described 
Calhoun's way of responding to such introduc- 
tions, and there is nothing to be added to the 
description. 

Benton's mode of receiving a stranger thus 
introduced to him was overwhelmingly Ben- 
tonian. If the reader will take the trouble to 
recall the delineation of Benton's character, 
which is given in the preceding chapter, lie will 
readily understand that Benton would consider 
the desire of a stranger to be introduced to him, 
an eminently proper desire. What, indeed, 
should anybody come to Washington for, 
except to be introduced to the Great Mis- 
sourian ? How could anybody who had come 
to Washington think of leaving the city with- 
out being introduced to the Great Missourian ? 
Such was Benton's view of the subject ; and 
Benton was the mjn to show the public-spirited 



23S GREAT SEKATORS. 

American citizen, who naturally wanted to be 
introduced to America's greatest citizen, that 
his patriotic aspirations were duly appreciated 
by the eminent personage who called them 
forth. So, when Jorkins, of Jorkinsville, was 
introduced to Benton, the Great Missourian, 
crushing the poor fellow's hand in his iron 
grip, would exclaim, with the imperious air 
of a demigod, and in tones that could be heard 
ringing through the corridors : 

^' How do you do, Mr. Jorkins, sir ? I am 
very glad to see you, sir. I hope you are very 
well, sir. I trust you are having a pleasant visit 
in Washington, sir ;" and so on, in a roaring 
avalanche of vociferous courtesy, which would 
fill Jorkins with trepidation, and cause him to 
break away as soon as possible and flee from 
the overwhelming presence. 

Webster evidently felt such introductions to 
be an intolerable bore, and seldom took the 
trouble to conceal his annoyance. Usually, his 
manner, on such occasions, was freezingly indif- 



HENRY CLAY. ^39 

fereiit. He seemed to be preoccupied ajid 
unable to bring his mind to the cognition of the 
rural Jorkins. Sometimes he did not even look 
at the person introduced, but meclianicallv 
extended his hand, and permitted the stranger 
to shake it, if he had the courage to do so. I 
have seen members of Congress turn crimson 
with indignation at Webster's ungracious 
reception of their constituents. They felt that 
his manner was a personal insult to them, and 
their constituents shared their opinion and 
sympathized with their indignation. Doubt- 
less, many enemies were thus made by Web- 
ster, whose adverse influence was afterwaids 
felt in the Whig National Conventions, of 
which he so repeatedly and so vainly sought a 
nomination to the Presidency. 

I have already indicated what Clay's manner 
of receiving a stranger was ; but no description 
of it can give an adequate idea of its warmth, 
its graciousness, its complete satisfactoriness, 
both to the introducer and to the constituent 



240 GREAT SENATORS. 

introduced. Clay's manner to a niember of 
Congress who introduced a constituent to him 
was such as led the stranger to imagine that 
his Representative was one of the most intimate 
and cherished friends that Clay had on earth ; 
and his reception of the stranger caused him to 
feel that for some reason it gave Clay a peculiar 
personal gratification to make his acquaintance. 
Then Clay would at once begin to talk with 
Jorkins about affairs in Jorkinsville. He 
would remember everybody he had ever met 
from Jorkinsville ; or he might have passed 
through that region years before, and in that 
case he would have a vivid recollection of the 
country and its inhabitants. And he would 
send messages, by Jorkins, to all his ''eld 
friends " in Jorkinsville ; and, of course, when 
Jorkins got home he lost no time in delivering 
the messages, in order to let his neighbors know 
how intimate he had been with " Hariy Clay " 
while he was in Washington. It does not 
require much sagacity to perceive that Jorkins 



HENRY CLAY. 241 

and all his tribe, even if they were Democrats, 
would be personally friendly to Henry Clay. 

V. Tom Marshall's Anecdote. 

Thomas F. Marshall, better known as Tom 
Marshall, a celebrated Kentucky lawyer and 
orator of the past generation, (who, unfortun- 
ately, was too much given to strong drink,) 
used to tell how he was driven to the bottle and 
his law partner to the Bible, in a way which 
humorously but powerfully suggests Clay's 
marvelous ability as an advocate. "The way 
of it was this,'' Marshall used to say. "Bob 
Breckenridge " (Robert Jefferson Breckenridge, 
afterwards a distinguished clergymen)— "Bob 
Breckenridge and I formed a partnership when 
we first started out to practice law. The firm 
of Breckenridge and Marshall soon began to take 
the lead of all the law firms in Kentucky. We 
marched right on. without a break, until, in our 
own opinion at least, we were at the head of the 
State bar, with one sohtary exception ; and that 



■24:2 GREAT SENATORS. 

exception was Henry Clay. We had never had 
a chance at him ; hut we had no douht what- 
ever as to what the result would be if we should 
have the good fortune to encounter him in open 
court. We felt assured that we should at once 
and forever put an end to his supremacy and | 
soar to the head ourselves. We w^atched for an 
opportunity to tackle the old lion, and, after a 
long wait, fortune at last favored us. We 
heard that Clay had been retained to prosecute 
a certain case^ and we immediately rushed off 
and volunteered our services to the defence, so 
as to get a chance at him. Our offer was 
accepted and we awaited the day of the trial 
with feelings of fretful impatience solaced with 
anticipations of triumph. Time dragged heavily 
on, but finally the day of trial came. When it 
cime to the summing up, as Breckenridge and I 
both wanted to take a hand in laying out Clay, 
we arranged with the judge that we should 
divide our time between us, and each address 
the jury. I, being the junior partner, spoke 



HENRY CLAY. <24:] 

first. When I arose to begin my plea, I felt a 
■ pang of i-emorse at the thought that I was about 
to displace the splendid old man who sat before 
me from his proud pre-emmence, and myself 
take the honored position which he had so long 
conspicuously occupied. But I smothered my 
sentimentality and proceeded to business. I had 
made elaborate preparation for the occasion, and 
I did it and myself the amplest justice. I felt 
that Clay could hardly hold up his head after I 
got through with him. In fact, in my own 
estimation, I laid him out so cold that nothing 
was left for Breckenridge to do but to dance on 
his remains; and he did dance on them— a 
regular w^ar dance. When Bob concluded and 
sat down, we expected that Clay would throw- 
up the sponge without attempting any reply to 
'our unanswerable arguments and eloquence. 
But not a bit of it. The old lion got up, and 
with one swoop of his paw he drove Brecken- 
ridge to the Bible and me to the bottle, and we 
iiave both been there ever since.'' 



244 GREAT SENATORS. 

VI. Clay's Felicity in Exordium — A Notable 

Example. 

Henry Clay, like Shakespeare and many 
another genius, was taught less by the schools 
than by nature and experience. He began a 
speech with the same masterly simplicity, 
directness and precision with which Shakes- 
peare begins a drama. His exordium exhibited 
all the Quintilian attributes. It was brief, it 
was in keeping with the subject and the 
occasion, and it prepossessed the audience in 
favor of the speakei* and his cause. His 
language and his metaphors always exactly 
fitted the place, the occasion, the audience and 
the circumstances. I will give an example 
w^hich will illustrate what I mean ; but I must 
first venture upon a brief sketch leading up to 
the occasion. 

When Clay retired from the Senate in 1842, 
it was known that he did so because, on account 
of the betrayal of the Whig party by John 



HENRY CLAY. 04;, 

Tyler on his accidental accession to the Presi- 
dency, Clay found himself in a minority in tlm 
Senate, although the Whigs had a majority 
there. The Tyler Whigs, following the pap 
spoon and uniting with the Democrats, defeated 
Clay's efforts to get Whig measun^s through 
Congress. As Benton graphically said, hy a 
singular process of political filtration Clay's 
influence was dissipated until he found himself 
a dreg in the party of which for years he had 
been the conspicuous leader. Clay's proud 
spirit could not brook such humiliation, and so 
he resigned his seat in the Senate. And as 
soon as he resigned he was missed, and the 
masses of the Whig party began to nnitter 
ominously. They wanted their old leader back 
in his rightful place. Besides, Clay was poor- 
poor notwithstanding his thirty-five years of 
public service ; for he was not one of those 
statesmen who, on a five-thousand-dollar salary, 
manage to lay up two hundred and fifty thou- 
sand dollars per annum. He went home to 



/ 



246 GRExlT SENATORS. 

Lexington, (Ky.,) hired a little office and 
resumed the practice of the law for the purpose 
of earning his daily bread. Such a spectacle as 
that moved the heart of the nation. The rank 
and tile of the Whig party began to clamor for 
Henry Clay's nomination for the Presidency in 
1844:. This alarmed the Democrats and Clay's 
personal enemies, and excited the jealousy of 
his rivals in his own party. It was felt by all 
those people that Henry Clay must be killed 
off ; and for the purpose of killing him off a 
concerted system of attack was devised. 
Streams of detraction were poured upon him 
from all parts of the country ; and this course 
was persisted in until the defamation became 
unendurable. In 1843 Clay announced that on 
a certain day he would meet his fellow-citizens 
face to face at Lexington, and reply to his 
detainers. On the day appointed, a vast con- 
course assembled at Lexington from the 
surrounding country. I hope the reader will 
try to summon up a mental picture of the 



HENRY CLAY. c^4j 

scene, so that he may enjoy the fehcitousness 
of the orator's opening sentences. Theiv tin; 
venerable chieftain was, in his old h(jnie, and 
before him were aged men who had begnn their 
career in that region when he began his. 
And tlure were the children and grandcliildren 
of his old comrades who all their lives had 
heard eulogiums upon Henry Clay ; and there 
were thousands of his fellow -citizens from near 
and far who were ready to do battle for him. 
And they were all, Kent uckians-- hunters of 
Kentucky, familiar with the forest and the 
chase. As the aged orator arose and stood 
before them, there was the solemn hush of a 
great silence. With his tall form feebly bent, 
he began : 

''1 am an old man— quite an old man ; ])ut " 
(and here he straightened himself up and his 
eyes flashed) " it will be found that I am not too 
old to vindicate my principles, to stand by my 
friends, and to defend myself. It so happens 
that I have again located myself, in the prac- 



2J:8 GREAT SENATORS. 

tice of my profession, in an office within a few 
rods of the one which I occupied when, more 
than forty years ago, I first came among you, 
an orphan and a stranger, and your fathers took 
me by the hand and made me what I am. I 
feel hke an old stag, which has long been 
coursed by the hunters and the hounds through 
brakes and bricirs, and o'er distant plains, and 
has at last returned to his ancient lair to lay 
himself down and die. And yet the vile curs 
of party are barking at my heels, and the blood- 
hounds of personal malignity are aiming at my 
throat. I scorn and defy them as I ever did r 

By this time the hearts of that great multi- 
tude were on fii'e, and 



(i 



At once there rose so wild a yell, 

* * * * 

As all the fiends from heaven that fell 
Had pealed the banner-cry of hell.'' 



Cries and sobs and shouts hurtled in the air, 
and there was a fierce looking around for ene- 
mies of Henry Clay ; but, fortunately, none of 



HENRY CLAY. 24!) 

his enemies were visible to the naked eye, and 
so nobody was lynched. But when silence and 
calmness were restored, the old man '' lose to 
the occasion," and in a speech oP impassioned 
eloquence, lasting for hours and ranging over 
his whole public hfe, he vindicated his princi- 
ples, he stood by his friends, he defended him- 
self. It was a long-continued storm of eloquence 
which rolled over the savannahs of the Soutli 
and the prairies of the West, burst through the 
Alleghanies, swept along the Atlantic seaboard, 
thundered across the Middle States, broke on 
the granite hills of New Hampshire, reverber- 
ated througli New England, and at Baltimore, 
in '44, gave Henry Clay the Whig nomination 
to the Presidency by acclamation, without the 
formality of a ballot. 

Perhaps some of the readers of these pages 
remember that enthusiastic campaign of 1844, 
and also remember what bitter disappointment 
and what mourning there were when it was 
learned that the gallant and peerless " Harry of 



250 GREAT SENATORS. 

the West " had heen beaten, as a broken-hearted 
Whig poet said : 

" By little Jimmy Polk of Tennessee ; 
Oolah, a-lah, oolali ee, 
Let's climb the wild persimmon tree !" 

The chief cause of Clay's defeat was his 
opposition to the annexation of Texas and the 
extension of slavery. He was fighting against 
destiny. The annexation of Texas and all that 
followed in its train had to come, and fill the 
land with turmoil, and strife, and blood, and 
death, till freedom triumphed and slavery was 
extinguished. And so we enthusiastic admirers 
of Henry Clay can look back with resignation . 
upon the omission of his election to the Presi- 
dency from the great programme of events 
which was prepared for us by the hand of God. 

Henry Clay died at Washington, June 29, 
1852, in his seventy-sixth year. 



DANIEL WEBSTEll. 



251 



CHAPTER Yl/ 

Daniel Webster. 

L The Godlike Daj^iel. — His greatxess. — His 
PERsojq^AL Appearance. 

The last and greatest personage of whom I 
have to treat is Daniel Webster. I have writ- 
ten of three great men — three very great men, 
Calhoun, Benton and Clay ; but, great as they 
were, Daniel Webster, in downright intellectual 
power and main strength of mentality, was 
equal to all three of them taken together. 

Tlie reader is doubtless familiar with the fact 
that in Webster's day he was caUed " The God- 
'like Daniel." The appehation fitted him. He 
was godlike in appearance and in power. He 
was not so tall as Clay, but he was much larger 
and more massive in every way. He had l)road 
shoulders, a deep chest, and a large frame. I 



I 



252 GREAT SENATORS. 

have seen men taller than Webster ; I have seen 
men larger ; but I never saw anyone who looked 
so large and grarld as he did when he was 
aroused in debate. 

Webster's head was phenomenal in size, and 
beauty of outline, and grandeur of appearance. 
It used to be said of him that he had brain 
enough to make several good heads. His brow 
was so protuberant that his eyes, though un- 
usually large, seemed sunken, and were likened 
unto ^' great burning lamps set deep in the 
mouths of caves." But large as his Perceptive 
organs were, his Eeflectives bulged out over 
them. His causality was massively developed ; 
and his organ of comparison, which was larger 
even than his causality, protruded as though 
nature, in building Webster's head, having dis- 
tributed her superabundant material as well as 
she could, found at the last that she had such a 
lot of bi-ain matter left on hand, that, in despair, 
she dabbed it on in front and let it take its 
chance of sticking ; and it stuck. The head. 



I 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 258 

the face, the whole presence of Webster, was 
I kingly, majestic, godhke. And when one heard 
him speak, he found that Webster's voice was 
just exactly the kind of voice that such a look- 
ing man ought to have. It was deep, resonant, 
mellow, sweet, with a thunder roll in it which, 
when let out to its full power, w^as awe inspir- 
ing. In ordinary speech its magnificent bass 
notes rolled forth like the rich tones of a deei)- 
voiced organ ; but when he chose to do so, he 
could elevate his voice in ringing, clarion, 
tenor tones of thrilling power. He also had a 
faculty of magnifying a word into such pro- 
digious volume and force that it would drop 
from his lips as a great boulder might drop 
through the ceiling, and jar the Senate chamber 
: like a clap of thunder. 

The color of Mr. Webster's hair, at this 
period of his life (1848) was a rich iron gray. 
His complexion was dark bronze. When he 
became animated, his complexion would glow 
so that his appearance made one think of a 



254 GREAT SENATOPiS. 

transparent bronze statue, brilliantly lighted 
from within, with the luminosity shining out 
through the countenance. On such occasions a 
singular light would play, or seem to play, upon 
his massive forehead, which was perhaps a 
reflection from the | great luminous eyes that 
y glowed with starlike splendor beneath his over- 
hanging brows, f And from this magnificent 
presence there emanated an atmosphere and 
sense of power — of power that could be felt, of 
power which seized upon the imagination of the 
beholder, and held him breathless when he first 
felt it, as one stands breathless when he sudden- 
ly comes into the presence of a scene in nature 
whose sublinjity is overwhelming. Nor when 
this first startling effect became toned down by 
time, did the impression of Webster's power 
grow any less ; as one repeatedly saw him, or 
became more intimate with him, the sense and 
conviction of his power, instead of growing less, 
increased ; and whenever he was aroused, and 
began to put forth his power, one felt that it 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 255 

was measureless, fathomless, endless; that 
there were vast floods of it still in reserve and 
ij ready to be poured forth on sufficient provo- 
cation. 

II. Webster's First Appearance (of the 
Session) in the Senate. 

I have a distinct recollection of Webster as 
he looked the first time I saw him. He had 
been ill, and several wxeks elapsed, after the 
session of Congress began, before he came into 
tlie Senate chamber. I was occupying the 
reporter's seat then assigned to the members of 
the Intelligencer^ s corps, one forenoon, w^hen 
there was a good deal of noise and bustle in the 
Senate, but no debate going on. Suddenly 
silence fell upon the chamber. I looked up and 
saw all eyes turned in the direction of an aisle 
which led from one of the doors past the 
reporter's seat. I looked to see what it was 
that so rivetted everybody's attention. It was 
Webster. He was coming slowly along the 



i 



256 GREAT SENATORS. 



aisle directly towards nie. I knew him, partly 
from pictures I had seen of him, but more from 
the fact that I felt it could not be anybody else, 
for, at the moment, I had an unreflecting, boy- 
ish feeling that there could not be two such 
men in the world at the same time, and that 
this one must be Webster. He was pale, and .| 
walked feebly. But the picturesque majesty 
v/as there ; the overpowering intellectuality was '{ 
there. That enormous and beautiful head, 
those wonderful eyes, that stately carriage, that 
Jove like front, all proclaimed that the godlike 
Daniel had come into the Senate House and was 
advancing to his seat. 

The silence with which Webster was received 
on that occasion was like the silence which his 
appearance in the Senate chamber, or his rising 
to speak, always caused. No other Senator was 
ever listened to with the respect which he com- 
manded. When Benton addressed the Senate, 
there was more than ordinary attention ac- 
corded to him. When Calhoun spoke, he was. 



I DANIEL WEBSTER. 257 

listened to with more attention than Benton 
received ; Clay was still more favored than 
Calhoun ; but when Webster arose there was 
instantly a solemn hush, and the intense soHci- 
tude of great and eager expectation at once 
became regnant. Information that Webster 
was up spread hke wildfire, and the Senate 
chamber was immediately packed with eager 
listeners. 

Webster vvas in miserable health nearly the 
entire session, and only looked his best on a few 
occasions when his indignation was roused 
almost to rage. He sometimes had a cadaver- 
ous appearance, as though on the verge of 
J dissolution ; he seemed absorbed and uncon- 
scious of his surroundings, and a woe- begone 
expression often overshadowed his lionlike 
countenance. But well or ill, his rising to 
speak was a signal for silence and concentrated 
attention. In ^'Paradise Lost," Milton, in 
describing the rising of a supernatural orator to 
address a supernatural audience, gives the only 



258 GREAT SENATORS. 

exact description of Webster, as he looked in 
those days, when he arose to address the Senate, 
that I have ever met v^ith. 

' ' "With grave 
Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed 
A pillar of state ; deep on his front engraven 
Deliberation sat, and public care ; 
And princely counsel in his face yet shone, 
Majestic, though in ruin. Sage he stood, 
With Atlanteau shoulders, fit to bear 
The weight of miijhtiest monarchies; his look 
Drew audience and attention still as night 
Or summer's noontide air." 

III. Webster's mental make-up. — His ora- 
tory. 

Webster's mental make-up was, beyond all 
question, the most wonderful ever known on 
this continent. His perceptive faculties were 
so keen, so acquisitive and so retentive that J| 
nothing eluded their observation or escaped " 
from their grasp ; and his analytical and 
reasoning powers were so great that they could 
rapidly and logically work up all the materials 
which his Perceptives supplied them with. His 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 259 

imagination was vivid, and his veneration was 
so large and active that its influence pervaded 
his affections and imparted an elevated and 
reverent quality to the operations of his mind. 
Thus his observing, knowing, reflecting and 
descriptive faculties were all powerfully devel- 
oped, while his imagination and reverence gave 
him great richness and elevation of style. He 
was unrivalled in stating a case, or in describ- 
ing a scene or a situation, or in developing an 
argument, or in telling a story or an anecdote, 
or in appealing to the imagination or the sym- 
pathies of intelligent people. 

In order to understand Webster's greatness, 
we must take into consideration the important 
truth that the aggregation or multiphcation of 
inferiority cannot produce superiority. It is 
said that the famous race horse Eclipse could 
run a mile in a minute. That being the fact, 
it would be no use to get together a score of 
horses that could not run a mile in less than 
two minutes, with the expectation of having 



260 GREAT SENATORS. 

them all together outrun Eclipse. Speed can- 
not be compassed by aggregating slowness. 
Webster's brain was so much larger than other 
brains, and of so much finer quality, that it 
developed an intellectual power which was 
relatively to the power of other brains what the 
speed of Eclipse was relatively to the speed of 
his rivals on the turf. It was absolutely unap- 
proachable. A whole Senate chamberful of 
other and lesser minds could not successfully 
grapple with that one mind, any more than a 
whole field of less speedy horses could cope with 
the matchless Eclipse. 

Webster had the advantage of having a 
body large enough to support his large brain. 
And then his temperaments — bilious, nervous, 
sanguine and lymphatic — were so completely 
harmonized, and his whole physical organism 
was so thoroughly correlated with them, that 
his vast brain power was perpetually nourished 
and kept in a vigorous state of recuperation. 
This gave him a wonderfully symmetiical 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 261 

combination of mental powers which issued in 
a substantialness and fineness of mind that 
made his intellect unrivalled for strength, 
endurance, warmth, susceptibility and elas- 
ticity ; for clearness^ depth and breadth of view, 
and for acuteness of penetration and tenacity 
of grip. Wherefore, when Webster was thor- 
oughly aroused, his power was irresistible. 
Benton had remarkable ability in building up 
an argument out of hard facts cemented with 
ingenious reasoning. Like a military engineer, 
he would construct fortification after fortifica- 
tion, and combine thei. so they would mutually 
support one another, and be impregnable 
against the assaults of his opponents, except 
when Webster assailed them. But what fort- 
ress so strong that it can vrithstand the earth- 
quake's shock ? And when Webster was fully 
aroused, he at once plunged down to the basic 
principles underlying the subject, and his resist- 
less reasoning, rising from unfathomable logical 
depths, with earthquake force upheaved the 



262 GREAT SEI^ATORS. 

foundations of the strongest intellectual fortress' 
that could be reared against him, and tumbled] 
the whole fabric in ruins. 

There was one trait of Webster's mind] 
which seems never to have been understood ;j 
and that was its subtlety. He was so powerful, 
and knew his power so well, that he almost] 
always preferred to win his battles by sheer 
main strength. But when he chose to resort to 
insinuating shrewdness, he could beat, at their 
own game, any of his opponents who relied on 
their subtlety for success. Scott's anecdote of 
Eichard Coeui de Lion's showing his strength 
by severing a thick bar of iron with one blow 
of his ponderous sword, while his Saracenic 
rival, Saladin, proved his skill by cutting in 
twain a piece of floating gossamer with his 
subtle blade, is often used to illustrate the 
mental difference of intellectual rivals. In 
comparing Webster with Calhoun, it has been 
customary to assume that Webster is repre- 
sented by Richard and Calhoun by Saladin. 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 263 

There is no doubt, whatever, that Calhoun 
possessed a mind of ahnost superhuman acute- 
ness and subtlety ; but it was not so acute nor 
so subtle as Webster's ; for, although, meta- 
phorically speaking, Webster wielded the 
ponderous blade of Eichard with unequalled 
strength, he also handled the subtle cimeter of 
Saladin with unrivalled skill. 

In truth, Webster's mind was both tele- 
scopic and microscopic ; his comprehension was 
both vast and minute, and took in the slightest 
facts as well as the grandest principles. 
Intellectually, his reach was vast and compre- 
hensive, his grasp strong and tenacious, his 
touch sensitive and delicate. His powers of 
delineation and elucidation were so great that 
he could group the details of his subject so that 
every fact and point and principle would stand 
out from the lucid depths of his argument clear 
as crystals, and then he could unfold and illus- 
trate his points with captivating beauty of diction 
and majesty of style, investing his theme with 



264: GREAT SENATORS. 

ideal attractiveness, and pouring through it all 
a stream of the clearest reasoning and the 
soundest philosophy. His taste was severe ; he 
never said a word too much, nor used a word 
that was not suited to his purpose. When his 
heart was deeply moved by some great theme, 
/ and his affections were enlisted in his cause, 
and his intellect was ablaze with the truths he 
was developing, his eloquence would sometimes 
rise to dizzying heights and be illuminated with 
bursts of dazzling splendor, which were never 
far-fetched or incongruous, but were simply the 
natural luminosity of the intellectual radiance 
shining through the translucent gems of his 
thought. 

Practically, Webster's mind was the perfec- 
tion of common sense. No matter how wide 
his reasoning ranged, nor how high his 
imagination soared, his judgment never left its 
feet. His mind, like the eternal Word described 
by the Son of Sirach, though ^^it touched the 
heavens, yet stood upon the earth." His 



\ 
\ 



DANIEL WEBSTER.- 265 

poAvers of abstraction and concentration were 
so great that, as through a mental sunglass, he 
could focus the burning rays of his genius upon 
any subject he was discussing until he set it 
ablaze with luminous demonstration. His 
power of condensation was equally great ; and 
his condensation never clouded ^his style nor 
obscured his argument. Like the condensation 
of the diamond, it was the result of crystallza- 
tion — of absolute perfection in the adjustment 
of parts, and the elimination from its substance 
of whatever would tarnish its translucency. 

Quintilian, in his immortal " Institutes of 
Oratory," in which he lays nearly all the learn- 
ing and eloquence of Greece and Eome under 
contribution, tells us that a plea, or an oration, 
consists of five parts— the exordium, the state- 
ment of fact, proof of statement, reply to 
adversary, and peroration. He lays great 
stress ui)on the exordium, and says it should 
be brief, in keeping with the subject, and of 
such a nature as to prepossess the tribunal 



11 

266 GREAT SENATORS. 



( 



I 



or audience in favor of tlie speaker and his 
cause. Webster was a master of exordium, as - 
witness the exordium of his Plymouth Eock ■ 
Oration, of his Oration on Laying the Corner- 
stone of Bunker Hill Monument, or of any of 
his great speeches, and especially the exordium 
of his speech in reply to Hayne. Quintilian 
considers the statement of facts of paramount 
importance, and says it must be lucid, in order 
that it may be easily understood ; brief, that it 
may be easily remembered ; credible, that it may 
be readily believed . ( Any one who has read many 
of Webster's speeches must have been struck I 
with the predominance of these qualities — lucid- 
ity, brevity and credibility— in his statement of I 
facts. It used to be said of him that he often 
won his cause by his masterly statement of it, 
which was so clear that everybody understood 
it, so brief that everybody remembered it, so • 
credible that everybody believed it.> His demon- 
stration of his statement, his reply to his oppo- 
nents, and his peroration were equally admirable, 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 207 

powerful and effective. Hence when he got 
through with a subject, there was a pretty gen- 
eral feehng that that was all there was of it ; 
that it would be useless for anybody else to say 
anything about it ; that Webster had been 
^* given a mouth and wisdom which all his 
adversaries should not be able to gainsay nor 
resist." Perhaps I cannot more appropriately 
conclude this delineation of IWebster's oratorical 
gifts and characteristics than by applying to 
him a paraphrase of what Quintihan says of 
Cicero, to wit : That in his grandest efforts he 
exhibited the energy of Demosthenes, the com- 
prehensiveness of Plato, and the sweetness of 
Isocrates; and this, not by reason of any particu- 
lar study of those great models, but from the 
felicitous exuberance of his immortal genius.) 

IV. Webster as a Parliamentary Leader. 

When Webster chose to assume the attitude 
of a parliamentary leader in the Senate, (which 
he seldom did,) he played the eminent role with 



268 GREAT SENATORS. 

surpassing ability. I saw him in that part but 
once ; it was on an occasion which called forth 
all his varied powers, and especially his tact and 
subtlety. It was the last night of the session, 
and of Polk's Administration, Saturday, March 
3, 18tl:9. The session expired, by limitation, at 
midnight, at which hour the Thirtieth Congress 
completed its term and passed into history. 

What was then called the- Great Civil and 
Diplomatic Appropriation bill, without the pas- 
sage of which the Government could not go on, 
for want of funds, still hung in the Senate, 
encumbered with amendments. The bill estab- 
lishing the Interior Department was also still 
before the Senate, encumbered with amend- 
ments and bitterly opposed by a large number 
of Democratic Senators who could not tolerate 
the idea of creating a new department of the 
Government, with its hundreds of clerkships, 
just as their party was going out of power and 
a Whig Administration was coming in. 

The Interior Department was an offshoot of 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 209 

the Treasury Department, the burdens of which 
had become so enormous that it was necessary 
to reheve it of a portion of them by the creation 
of a new department to which they could be 
transferred. The bill to estabhsh the Interior 
Department was drawn by Robert J. Walker, 
the Democratic Secretary of the Treasury, who 
made energetic exertions to secure its passage. 
But, notwithstanding Mr. Walker's influence, 
nearly all the Democratic Senators were strongly 
opposed to the bill, and a few of the Whig 
members took sides against it. Calhoun saw 
in it an insidious and dangerous attack upon 
State rights. He said : 
I " Mr. President, there is something ominous 
in the expression, 'The Secretary of the 
Interior.' This Government was made to take 
charge of the exterior relations of the States. 
And if there had been no exterior relations the 
Federal Government would never have existed 
—the exterior relations with foreign countries 
and the exterior relations of States with States, 



270 GREAT SENATORS. 

and that only carried to a very limited extent. 
Sir, the name ' Interior Department ' itself 
indicates a great change in the public mind. 
What has been the cause ? We are told that 
the business of Government now has become 
such that the existing departments are over- 
loaded, and that it requires a new department 
to be constituted. ^ ^ ^ If the departments 
are overcharged, what has been the cause? 
Has it not resulted from the overaction of our 
Government ? Is it not a strong admonition to 
us to retrace many of our steps, instead of 
forming new machinery to give a new impulse 
to that overaction ? and a very powerful 
impulse this measure will give. ^ ^ - Every- 
thing upon the face of God's earth will go into 
this Interior Department — Indian Affairs, 
Patent Office, Land Office, Public Buildings, 
all, all throw^n together without the slightest 
connection. This thing ought not to be. This 
is a monstrous bill. It is ominous. It will 
turn over the Avhole interior affairs of the coun- 



DAXIEL WEBSTER. 271 

try to this department ; and it is one of the 
greatest steps that ever has been made in my 
time to absorb all the remaining powers of the 
States. Si]', it is time to stop. Ours is a 
Federal Government. The States are the con- 
stituents of the Federal Government. It is 
a created, audit is a supervisory power. We 
are, step by step, concentrating and consolidat- 
ing this power, until finally we will take the 
last and final step, and conduct all the business 
under the name of the 'Department of the 
Interior.' " 

Calhoun's remarks, of which I have given 
but a small portion, made a deep impression on 
Democratic Senators, especially Southern ones ; 
and Webster, seeing the effect which had been 
produced, said : 

^' The argument on the other side is merely 
turning on a word. Why call this the Depart- 
ment of the Interior ? The impression seems to 
be that we are going to carry the power of the 
Government further into the interior than we 



272 GREAT SENATORS. 

have ever done before. I do not so understand 
it. Where is the power ? It is only that cer- 
tain powers, heretofore exercised by certain 
agents, are to be exercised by other agents. 
That is the whole of it. And gentlemen say it 
is creating a new department ; overshadowing 
everything, swallowing up State influence, and 
overturning all the glories of our State institu- 
tions. I see nothing of all this. I see nothing 
but a plain practical question. ^ - * There is 
not a particle of this bill, not a sentence, for 
extending the powers of the Government. It 
is a bill for appointing a new agent, for the 
exercise of already existing powers — nothing 
else under heaven." 

That settled the State Eights argument. 
The bill, however, was fiercely assailed by the 
opposing Democratic Senators ; but Webster, 
powerfully assisted by Senator Davis, of Missis- 
sippi, finally triumphed over all opposition, the 
amendments of the Senate were receded from, 
and the bill was passed by a vote of 31 to 25. 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 273 

Soon after the passage of the Interior 
Department bill, the hour of midnight struck, 
and it was assumed, by a number of Senators, 
that the session of the Senate had expired. 
But it was suggested that it would not do to 
adjourn until the Civil and Diplomatic Appro- 
priation bill had been passed, inasmuch as the 
omission to pass that bill would leave the 
Government without funds, and compel the 
incoming President to call an extra session of 
Congress. This plea had no weight with the 
very scrupulous Senators who could not think 
of doing anything so unparliamentary as to 
proceed with legislation after the Thirtieth Con 
gress had, as they alleged, expired. Benton, 
Cass, Calh(3un, and several other Senators, sat 
silent in their seats. It was understood that 
they were of the opinion that the session of the 
Senate had terminated at midnight. Here was 
certainly a very grave question, and Senators 
did not seem to know what to do about it. At 
last Webster arose. All eyes were fixed on 



274 GREAT SENATORS. 

him. He spoke briefly. After a few explana- 
tory words, be said: "I am of opinion tbat 
the session of this House, which commenced on 
this third day of March, until we vote upon the 
Appropriation bills, must continue without 
regard to C-L- 0-C K-S !'' The word clocks filled 
the Senate Cliamber with articulate thunder, 
every reverberation of which expressed the 
utmost scorn of the idea that the session of the 
Senate had come to an end. It seemed as 
though Webster had smashed the horologe of 
Time, and that clocks should be no more. That 
one word, as hurled forth by AVebster, seemed 
to settle the question ; but he added a few 
sentences to give Senators sufficient i-easons for 
holding that the Senate was still in lawful ses- 
sion, and would be in lawful session until it 
should of its own motion adjourn. 

A few minutes afterwards a message was 
received from the Huuse of Eepresentatives, 
which threatened to defeat the passage of the 
Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation bill, to 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 97 k 

which a portentous ameDdment, providing a 
government for the Territories of Xew Mexico 
and Cahfornia, had been proposed by Senator 
Walker, of TVisconsin, on February 20th. 
Senator Beh. of Tennessee, offered a vohiniinous 
amendment to Mr. Walker's amendment. 
Webster proposed another amendment as a sub- 
stitute for both Walker's and Bell's ; and Sen- 
ator Dayton, of Xew Jersey, offered still another 
amendment modifying Webster's. The attempt 
to engraft a bill for the government of Territories 
upon an appropriation bill was looked upon by 
many Senators as unprecedented and unparha- 
mentary, and it led to prolonged debates. The 
Ai)propriation bill was tinally sent back to the 
House of Representatives, where it oi'iginated, 
with several dozen amendments, including wbat 
was cahed the Cahfornia amendment (the one 
providing a government for Territories), which 
was No. 53 on the list. The message received 
after midnight from the House of Representa- 
tives announced that said House had concurred 



276 . GREAT SENATORS. 

in the 5dvd amendment of the Senate, with an 
amendment (of their own) to that 53rd amend- 
ment, in which they asked the concurrence of 
the Senate ; and that they had receded from 
their disagreement to the other amendments of 
the Senate. 

This action of the House of Eepresentatives 
opened the door to an endless debate. Their 
amendment to the Senate's amendment was 
obnoxious to Southern Senators, some of whom 
thought they saw a lurking Wilmot Proviso in 
it. Other Senators objected in toto to the 
foisting of a territorial bill upon an appropria- 
tion bill, while others revived the question of J 
the incompetency of the Senate to legislate 
after the hour of midnight. Others offered 
additional amendments to the existing amend- 
ments, so that an amendment to an amendment 
to an amendment to an amendment, running 
back Hke "The House that Jack Built," was 
before the Senate, with other motions piled on 
top of motions. In the midst of the turmoil. 



J 



DANIEL WEBSTER, 277 

Senator Yulee. of Florida, made a motion to 
adjourn sine die, but nobody paid any attention 
to it, and the confusion increased. Senator 
Turney, of Tennessee, who seemed to be in great 
mental and moral distress, solemnly requested 
that the Secretary of the Senate should be direct- 
ed to note the hour upon the journal . This caused 
a lull, while every Senator looked at his watch, 
or at the Senate clock. It was then 20 minutes 
past 2 o'clock a. m. I will now copy a few 
lines from the record. 

Mr. Webster. What is the question ? 

Presiding Officer. The question is upon 
the motion to adjourn sine die. 

Mr. W^ebster. I protest against it. We 
have no right to adjourn without the consent of 
the other House. 

A Senator. The President of the United 
States has gone home."^ 

Mr. Webster. Very well, if he chooses to 
go ; but we shall have the pleasure of sending 
him a bill between this and 10 o'clock to-mor- 

* It was customary for a President, when there was a session 
of Congress on the last night of his term, to occupy a commit- 
tee room in the Capitol, where bills, as they were passed, could 
be brought to him for his signature ; and President Polk had 
been in attendance, in accordance with that custom. 



278 GREAT SENATORS. 

row morning. I protest against it for the sake 
of the repubhc. 

This was an effectual notice bv Webster that 
he was going to hold on till the Appropriation 
bill was passed, and the notice was emphasized 
by the decision of the Presiding Officer that 
Webster's point against adjournment was well 
taken, and that the Senate could not adjourn 
sine die without the consent of the House of 
Representatives. This point having been set at 
rest, the debate on the Appropriation bill pro- 
ceeded. As the discussion went on, Senators got 
excited, called one another names in a parlia- 
mentary way, and became savage in attack and 
venomous in retort. 

Sometimes the confusion was so great that 
speakers could not be heard, and it was impos- 
sible for the reporters to follow the line of 
debate through the overwhelming turmoil. 
Senator Foote, of Mississippi, boisterously insisted 
that the session had terminated at midnight ; 
that Senators whose term of office expired on 



DANIEL WEBSTER 279 

the third of March were no longer memhers of 
the Senate and had no right to take part in the 
proceedings ; that, in fact, the assemblage was 
not a senate, but a public assembly, a town- 
meeting, that was legislating without a shadow 
of authority. He became so intolerably weari- 
some and offensive that at last he was hissed. 
This only caused him to talk still more volubly, 
and finally groans were heard. "I know my 
rights, and will maintain them, too," exclaimed 
Senator Foote, ''in spite of all the groans that 
may come from any quarter. Groans will have 
no effect on me," he magniloquently declared, 
''even though they shall equal the thunders of 
the most terrific volcano that ever shook the 
eternal mountains." And on he talked, with 
tantalising verbosity. 

When things had got at their worst, and 
everybody was utterly weary of the arid turmoil, 
Webster arose, and ignoring all the folly and ill- 
temper which had been exhibited, he stated the 
legislative situation and pointed out the precise 



280 GREAT SENATORS. 

work to be done in order to accomplish what 
ought to be accomphshed before the Senate 
adjourned. His statement exhibited all the 
Quintilian characteristics — lucidity, brevity and 
credibility— in the highest degree. And there 
was a matter-of-course air pervading it, a lofty 
and courteous taking it for granted that every 
member of the Senate agreed with him, which 
was irresistibly attractive and persuasive. That 
power of his, of which I have spoken, mani- 
fested itself by drawing the minds of Senators 
in the wake of his mind as a vast and power- 
fully propelled steamer draws floating objects in 
its wake. A parliamentary calm followed his 
remarks, and a sensible and dignified discussion 
of the questions at issue was begun. 

I never saw, on any other occasion, such 
power, such tact, such wisdom, such wit, such 
humor, such dialectic skill, such profound 
knowledge of human nature, such all-embracing 
common sense as Webster displayed that night, d| 
or rather, that morning. He was opposed by 



Daniel webster. 281 

some of the ablest and most adroit debaters in 
the Senate, and by several of the most ignorant 
and stupid ones. The able debaters he drove out 
of the field with the heavy artillery of his logic ; 
the adroit ones be tripped up with superior dia- 
lectic skill, and left them lying helpless : the 
vain and ignorant ones be soothed into qui- 
escence with consummate tact and laid them 
away in beds of downy flattery to self conceit- 
ed repose ; the pretentious and contentious ones 
he either crushed by downright logical force, or 
else persuasively coerced them into silence by 
elegant sarcasm. He took interruptions with 
imperturbable patience, with but one exception. 
Senator Foote repeatedly asked permission of 
him, on different occasions, "to be allowed just 
to make a few remarks in explanation," etc. , and 
Webster goodnaturedly gave way. But at last, 
when the discussion was hinging on a critical 
point, and Webster was speaking with great con- 
ciseness and power, Foote jumped up and said, 
" Will the Senator from Massachusetts allow me 



282 GREAT SENxVTORS. 

to state " — '^ If the Senator will be brief," inter- 
posed Webster. '' For God's sake be brief," he 
added, with a volume of voice and a thunder 
roar which swept Foote out of the debate so 
effectually that he didn't get back into it for 
nearly an hour. 

The Senate i^epeatedly got into what seemed 
inextricable parliamentary tangles, with mo- 
tions piled on motions and amendments upon 
amendments. In every such case Webster 
would disengage the tangles with inexhaustible 
patience and the most cheerful good humor. In 
short, the magnificent old chieftain was so 
good-natured, so witty, so humorous, so vast 
and comprehensive, so terse and lucid, so high- 
toned and majestic that he constantly inspired 
not only good-will and friendliness, but 
admiration and awe, and finally gained an all- 
commanding influence over the Senate. As 
the hours passed on, his opponents gave up 
point after point ; the Senate's amendment to 
the Appropriation bill was receded from, the 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 283 

bill was passed, and the Senate adjourned at 7 
o'clock on Sunday morning. 

I recently read that entire debate, as it 
stands defectively reported in the Congressional 
Globe, and felt a keen regret on realizing how 
impossible it is for people, who have only the 
printed record of such memorable scenes, to get 
anything approaching to an adequate idea of 
their true character. If the sun were removed 
from our solar system, and it were possible for 
mankind to survive its removal, and years 
afterwards people who never saw the sun 
should read an account of what our system was 
before the sun was removed, they would get 
just about as vivid a notion of the truth as a 
person who never saw Webster in animated, 
vehement debate would get in reading a report 
of that Senatorial scene, in which he was the 
central orb, from which emanated so much of 
its light and warmth and power and glory. 



284 GREAT SENATORS. 



Y. Other Characteristics — Webster's Incom- 
putable Service to the Country. 

It is acknowledged by every one who is 
acquainted with the facts that Webster was as 
preeminent in intellectual power as I have 
represented him ; that Horace Greeley spoke 
the truth when he said : " Webster's intellect 
is the greatest emanation from the Almighty 
Mind now embodied." It is also acknowl- 
edged that Webster was somewhat lack- 
ing in character. It is, of course, understood 
that character does not come from intellect, but 
from morality, virtue, benevolence, courage, 
conscientiousness, firmness, fortitude. A man 
may have a transcendent intellect, and yet be a 
coward, a liar, a thief, a scoundrel of the most 
despicable kind — 

" The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind," 

as Pope wrote of Lord Bacon. Webster's firm- 
ness, self-esteem and conscientiousness were 



DA:NIEL WEBSTER. 285 

comparatively weak ; and this organic defect 
was sometimes manifested in moral obtuseness 
and infirmity of purpose. For this reason, 
-'Webster never was and never could be a popular 
party leader like Clay. \ In an intellectual 
contest, no human being could contend success- 
fully with Webster ; but when the intellectual 
contest w^as ended, and the victory won, he 
would lapse into indifference and suffer the 
fruits of his victory to be snatched from him by 
men of inferior intellect. Perhaps it was 
fortunate that his nature was thus defective ; 
because, if, in addition to his vast and match- 
less intellect, he had had the imperious charac- 
ter and indomitable will of Clay or Benton, he 
might have become an intolerable dictator in 
public affairs, and been too powerful and 
predominant for his country's good. In a 
government '' of the people, by the people, for 
the people," the people must govern themselves, 
and there is no room anywhere for a dictator. 
The majority of the people of the United 



286 GREAT SENATORS. 

States little know how much they are indebted 
to Daniel Webster. He did for us a work which, 
in its way, was as necessary and valuable as the 
work done for us by Washington was in its 

J way. He taught the country what the true 
nature of its government is. He logically, 
powerfully, clearly and popularly demonstrated 
the baneful character of the disunion and 
secession heresy, which, started by Quincy, was 
afterwards so destructively wrought out by 
Calhoun. If it had not been for Webster, 
Calhoun would have carried everything before 
him ; there was nobody else who could cope 
successfully with the brilliant South Carohna 
dialectician, or with his equally brilliant coad- 
jutor, Hayne. And if the country had become 
convinced that the alleged right of secession 

r was in very truth and fact a constitutional 
right, and that any State might constitutionally 
secede from the Union when it imagined itself 
to have a sufficient provocation for doing so, 
what would have been the inevitable result ? 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 287 

The result would have been that the people 
would not have fought to maintain the Union, 
and we should now be dissevered, discordant 
and belligerent, instead of united, fraternal and 
prosperous, sweeping on to a destiny of incon- 
ceivable grandeur. But Webster, having won 
the battle for the Union in the Senate, the 
people were ready to win, and did win the 
battles for the Union in the field : 

" Nor is it aught but just, 
That he, who in debate of truth hath won, 
Should win in arras, in both disputes ahke 
Victor." 

VI. An occasion when Webster w^as 

ENRAGED. 

In the ordinary course of legislation, Web- 
ster did not speak often. It was only when 
some important topic was before the Senate 
that he condescended to mingle in the debate. 
On one occasion he was thoroughly aroused, 
and electrified the Senate with a terrific burst 
of indignation. It was when a side issue on 



288 GREAT SENATORS. 

slavery was under discussion, and the debate 
was so irritating that nearly every one who 
took part in it lost his temper. Batler, of 
South Carolina, (Calhoun's colleague,) became 
very angry and indulged in a fierce and vitu- 
perative attack on what he called the bad faith 
of the North. He accused the Northern States 
of breaking every compromise ever entered 
into between them and the South as soon as 
they could see a chance to make money by 
breaking a compromise. He declared that this 
bad faith had been exhibited so often on the 
part of the North, that he had become sick of 
the word compromise ; or, as he put it, smiting 
himself, as he spoke, upon his bosom : " I am 
sick at h-e a-r-r-r-t of the word compromise." 

When Senator Butler sat down, Webster 
was seen to be getting up. I use that form of 
expression, because the getting up of Daniel Web- 
ster was not a mere act ; it was a process. The 
reader may have seen an elephant get up, and 
may have been impressed with the magnitude 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 289 

and evolutionary character of the operation. 
Webster's getting up was vastly more impres- 
sive, because it was intellectualized, moralized, 
spiritualized. The beholder sav^ the most 
wonderful head that his vision ever rested on 
rising slowly in the air ; he saw a lionlike coun- 
tenance, with great, deep-set, luminous eyes, 
gazing at him with solemn majesty ; in short, 
he saw the godlike Daniel getting on his feet, 
and his heart thrilled at the thought of what 
might be coming. 

On the occasion to which I refer, as soon as 
Webster arose, information of the fact was 
circulated all through the Capitol. '' Webster's 
up, and he's mad," was the smothered cry which 
sounded through the corridors and ante-cham- 
bers. That was sufficient to excite the liveliest 
interest. The Senate chamber was immediately 
filled by an eagerly expectant audience. After 
Webster got upon his feet, he slowly rocked 
himself back and forth for a few moments, with 
his head bowed and his hands clasped behind 



290 GREAT SENATORS. 

him. Then he looked up, and around, and 
fixed his gaze upon Butler. 

" His look 
Drew audience and attention still as night 
Or summer's noontide air." 

The suspense was intolerable. Every heart 
stood still. Slowly unclasping his hands, and 
letting them fall by his side, and speaking ni 
low, deep, musical, metallic tones, surcharged 
with intensity and power, Webster said : 

" Mr. President, the honorable member from 
South Carolina, who has just taken his seat, 
says that he is prepared to say boldly that the 
Northern States have not observed, but have 
broken the compromises of the Constitution." 

Mr. Butler (in his seat). " I said it." 

Mr. Webster. ^'Yes, Mr. President, he 
said it. It is no duty of mine to take up a 
glove that is thrown to all the world ; it is no 
duty of mine to accept a general challenge. 
But if the honoral)le member shall see fit to be 
so obliging as to inform the Senate, in my hear 



I 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 291 

ing, on what occasion the State, whose repre- 
sentative I stand here, has forborne to observe 
or has broken the compromises of the Constitu- 
tion, he ivillfind in me a COMBATANT on that 
question^ 

Senator Mangum, of North Carohna, subse- 
quently said that the word ' ' combatant " 
weighed at least forty tons ; and as it fell from 
Webster's lips, he took a step towards Butler, 
his bronze complexion glowing as with inward 
fire, his brow clothed with thunder, his eyes 
blazing lightning, both arms raised, and his 
^ huge form towering in all its majesty. It is 
impossible to give a description of the scene 
which will convey any idea of the effect which 
Webster produced. I will only say that who- 
ever did not see Daniel Webster on that occa- 
sion (or has not seen an equivalent spectacle) 
cannot have any coxiception of what a magnifi- 
cent human being God's creative hand can 
fashion. 

Butler moved uneasily in his seat, muttered 



29^ GREAT SENATORS. 

^^ril answer the gentleman; I'll answer the 
gentleman," and attempted to rise. But he was 
restrained by his friends (Calhoun among others) 
who were near him. They did not wish to 
provoke Webster into making one of his over- 
whelming speeches, in favor of Massachusetts 
and the North, at that time. They foresaw the 
great parliamentary struggle which was coming 
on, and under the lure of the Presidency in 
1852, they were trying to keep Webster from 
assuming a pronounced attitude of antagonism 
to their wishes. So Calhoun, with an air of 
childlike innocence, entered into the debate, and 
with consummate adroitness turned it into a 
cold, passionless discussion of constitutional 
points. Webster was appeased, missed a great 
opportunity, went on his way under the lead of 
the subtle influences which enveloped him, 
made his famous seventh of March speech in 
the following year (1850) in favor of the Com- 
promise Measures, and having been thus used 
for their purposes by the South and its Northern 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 293 

allies, he was contemptuously cast aside by them 
in 1852, and died in October of that year; 
going down to his grave under a heart-crushing 
load of disappointed ambition and political 
despair. 

VII. Source of his Political Despair. — His 

Passionate Love of the Union. — His 

Incomparable Political Insight 

AND Foresight. 

Webster's political despair was caused by the 
vision of future events which his vast powers of 
comprehension and his keen and far-reaching 
insight revealed to him. He saw clearly into 
the governing principles of things, and he saw 
clear to the bottom. He never mistook effects 
for causes. He never got lost amid the chaotic 
antagonisms of phenomena, but always struck 
right back to the fountain heads whence the 
streams of events flow. In his Plymouth Rock 
Oration (1820), he indicated the dangers with 
which the country would ultimately be threat- 



294: GREAT SENATORS. 

ened on account of slavery, and the undue 
growth of monopohes of wealth and power. 
The anti -monopolists of the present day go to 
that oration for their best ammunition, and you 
see what Daniel Webster then said on the 
subject (sixty-nine years ago) now printed in 
large type in anti-monopolist newspapers. 

I have said that Webster's veneration was 
so large and active that its influence pervaded 
his affections and imparted an elevated and 
reverent quality to the operations of his mind. 
It in fact pervaded all of his mental and moral 
attributes, and was perceptible in whatever he 
said. There was a subtle element of reverence 
in his wit and humor, which gave them an 
indescribable charm and power. Every one 
who is familiar with his eloquence knows that 
it is marked by a Hebraic, Biblical quality which 
sometimes imparts to it unusual solemnity and 
grandeur. So controlling was veneration in 
Webster's character, I have no doubt that when 
he did anything wicked he did it reverently. 



11 



DANIEL AVEBSTER. 295 

Upon his patriotism, the effect of his reverence 
was strongly marked. He I'everenced the 
Revolutionary Fathers, of whom his own 
revered and beloved father was one ; he rev- 
erenced their motives and their principles ; he 
reverenced their patience and their fortitude ; 
he reverenced their trials and their sufferings ; 
he reverenced their wisdom and their virtues ; 
he reverenced their achievements and their 
moderation in the day of their success ; and, 
above all, he reverenced the American Union, 
which was the net product to the country and 
to the human race of all their long and some- 
times hopeless struggle. 

Webster not only reverenced and loved the 
Union with all his heart, mind, soul and 
strength, but he understood its significance, its 
worth, its necessity, its immeasurable import- 
ance to its own citizens and to mankind. 
Wherefore, Webster's patriotism was not only 
rooted in the deepest, widest, clearest logical 
perceptions which it is possible for a human 



296 GREAT SENATORS. 

mind to have on any subject, but it also had 
the overruling force of a rehgious passion ; and 
his love of country, dominating all his vievv's of 
public policy, bound his conscience in invincible 
devotion to the Union and to its preservation at 
all hazards and against all contingencies. To 
him, slavery, or any incident or phenomenon 
connected with the legislation or institutions of 
the coinitry, was infinitely of no consequence 
in comparison with the preservation of the 
Union. Only preserve the Union, and time 
and the ultimate patriotism and good sense of 
the people would take care of everything else. 
Abraham Lincoln was animated by a similar 
love for the Union and guided by similar broad 
views as to the conditions of its preservation, 
when, in reply to Horace Greeley's open letter, 
addressed to him in August, 1862, he said : 

*' My paramount object is to save the Union, 
and not either to save or destroy slavery. If I 
could save the Union without freeing any 
slave, I would do it ; if I could save it by free- 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 297 

ing all the slaves, I would do it ; and if I could 
do it by freeing some and leaving others alone, 
I would also do that." 

It is vain for persons who do not understand 
these attributes of Webster's mind, and these 
traits of his character, to attempt to sit in judg- 
ment upon his pohtical course. As well might 
purblind duckhngs presume to sit in judgment 
upon an eagle's flight. 

Webster's wonderful power of analytical 
vision, rendered prescient by his deep, intense, 
elevating reverence, enabled him to see that the 
compromise measures of 1850 would have but 
temporary influence ; that the conflict between 
slavery and freedom could not be permanently 
pacificated ; that war between the North and 
the South was inevitable ; and the patriotic old 
demigod, w^ho loved his country with the very 
religion of patriotism, was glad to take leave of 
the scenes in which he had so long been, as 
Benton said, " the colossal figure, bearing the 



298 GREAT SENATORS. 

constitutional ark of his country's safety upon 
his Atlantean shoulders.'' 

Events have justified Webster, and shown 
how mistaken w^ere the hordes of abolitionists 
who howled upon his track in 1850. I say this 
with all the more freedom because I was one of 
the fiercest of the howlers ; and I will add that 
my howls were honest ones. We wei-e all as 
conscientious as we were mistaken, and it has 
all turned out for the best, because God can 
make as effectual use of fools as of sages. 
Webster spoke in 1850 with the events of 1861 
before his vivid intellectual vision. And when 
the crisis which he foretold came, and the 
events which he foresaw in 1850 began to take 
place in 1861, Seward, Chase and other alarmed 
anti-slavery statesmen then voted in Congress 
for measures which Webster was hounded to 
his grave for advocating in 1850. 

In the last paragraph of his renowned speech 
in reply to Hayne (1830), when speaking of the 
then threatened dissolution 'of the Union, 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 299 

Webster said : " While the Union lasts, we 
have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread 
out before us, for us and our children. Beyond 
that, I seek not to penetrate the veil. God 
gi^ant, that in my day at least, that curtain may 
not rise. God grant, that on my vision never 
may be opened what lies beyond." His prayer 
was granted. He did not live to see the section- 
al and fraternal strife which he alone of all the 
men of his time clearly foresaw and was abso- 
lutely sure would come, unless the people of 
the whole country would learn, and abide by, 
and carry out in all their political relations, the 
great truth taught by Goethe — 

" Only the law can to us Freedom give." 

And happily, when — to paraphrase his own 
touching and eloquent words from that same 
speech in reply to Hayne— his eyes were turned 
for the last time to behold the sun in heaven, 
their last feeble and lingering glance beheld the 
gorgeous ensign of the Eepublic, known and 



300 GREAT SENATORS. 

honored throughout the earth, still full high 
advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in 
their original lustre, not a stripe erased or pol- 
luted, no/ a single star obscured. And thanks 
be to God, owing largely to the workings of 
Divine Providence through the mighty mind 
and the great, patriotic heart of Daniel Webster, 
the gorgeous ensign of the Eepublic, v^ith many 
bright stars added to its ample folds, now floats 
more proudly than it floated when Webster's 
eyes closed upon it, and it floats over a Union 
whose enduring cohesion' has come forth tri- 
umphant from the severest test to which any 
nation or government could be subjected. 



I have scarcely hinted at the faults of the 
four conspicuously great men about whom I 
have written in this little book. Of course 



DANIEL WEBSTER. 301 

they had faults, and I intended to refer to them, 
for the purpose of pointmg sundry morals. 
But I find that I have not the heart to do it. 
They have gone forward into their eternal 
environments, '^ every one unto his own pl9.ce.'' 
It matters not to them what commotion we 
may raise around their memories here ; but it 
does matter to us ; for, with what judgment we 
judge we shall surely be judged. Those great 
men passed their lives in the service of their 
country. They worked for us long and well, 
every one according to his own light. The 
unfortunate political aberration which overtook 
him I loved best, can now be forgiven. They 
were sincere, honest, great- minded, large- 
hearted patriots, and looked for their reward to 
the increasing honor and glory of their country, 
and not to her spoils or her plunder. While we 
remember their services with gratitude, we can 
look forgivingly upon their errors. And so, to 
the accomplished Christian gentleman Calhoun, 



302 GREAT SENATORS. 

to the tough old iron clad Benton, to the elo- 
quent and chivalric Clay and to the godhke 
Daniel, Benediction and Farewell. 

FINIS. 



4 



INDEX. 



ABOLITION WITS— Their joke about the color of political 
babies boru into the Union, 35. 

ALAMO — Sensation occasioned by its capture, 113. 

ADAMS, CHARLES FRANCIS— Named as a candidate for the 
Presidency on the Free-soil ticket, 97; nominated for 
Vice-President, 103 ; introduces a State Rights resolution 
in the Massachusetts Legislature, IG-i. 

AMBRISTER — British emissary hung by General Jackson, 175. 

ANECDOTES — Horace Greeley's home- going after the nomi- 
nation of General Taylor, 81 ; Mayor Swift's speech at 
the " Grand AVhig Ratification Meeting in Philadelphia," 
84; "Damn his cabbages and turnips," 101; John P. 
Hale's retort on Senator Foote, 128 ; Benton's acknowl- 
edgement of Jackson's services to him, 208 ; Benton and 
his book, 209 ; a batch of Bentonian anecdotes, 212-213; 
one of Henry Clay's favorite anecdotes, 231 ; Tom Mar- 
shall's anecdote, 241. 

ARBUTHNOT — British emissary hung by General Jackson, 
175. 

ASTOR HOUSE— Meeting at, of Whig delegates to the 
National Convention of 1848, 62. 

BADGER, GEORGE E.— (Senator from North Carolina)— 
Introduces a resolution to discontinue the system of 
reporting the debates and proceedings of Congress, 136. 

BARNBURNERS— One of the sections of the Democratic 

[303] 



304 INDEX. 

party in the State of New York, 43 ; partisans of Martin 
Van Buren, 47 ; their great indignation meeting in the 
City Hall Park, New York, 61 ; report of their delegates 
to the Baltimore Convention, 63; David Dndley Field's 
address, 64; great influence of the meeting, 65 ; Barn- 
burner Convention at Utica nominates Van Buren for the 
Presidency, but he declines, 85; thgv unite with the 
Free-soilers in a national movement,^W and following 
pages. — See Free-soil Convention, 93. 

BENTOISr, THOMAS H.— His insulting manner towards 
Calhoun, 151; his hatred of Calhoun, 190; Benton and 
Calhoun contrasted, 191 ; Benton's character, 196 ; his 
mental and physical characteristics, 197-198; his early 
hfe, 198-199; his fight with Old Hickory, 199; removes 
to Missouri, 199; his fights there, 200; elected U. S. 
Senator, 200; singular personal habits, "The Roman 
gladiators did it, sir," 201 ; his thick skin, 202 ; his 
characteristics as a debater, 202-206; how he cut down 
the reports of his speeches, 206; his egotism, 207; anec- 
dotes illustrating his egotism, 208-210; other anecdotes 
of Benton, 211-213 ; the better side of Benton's character, 
214-216; characteristic conduct as he was dying, 217; 
his manner of receiving strangers who were introduced to 
him, 237-238 ; his mode of building up an argument, 
261. 

BERRIEN, JOHN McPHERSON— (Senator from Georgia)— 
139. 

BOWIE, COLONEL JAMES— Killed at the fall of the Alamo, 
113. 

BOYS— Lockport, N. Y., boys, 113 ; they form a company 
to march down and ravage Mexico, 114. Georgia boys, 
145-6. South Carohna boys, 168. 

BRECKENRIDGE, REV. ROBERT J.— How he was " driven 
to the Bible " by Henry Clay, 241-3. 



INDEX. 305 

BRTNKERHOFF--Free-soiler from Ohio ; his stunning ques- 
tion in the nominating committee of the Free-soil Conven- 
tion, 101. 

BUENA VrSTA, BATTLE OF— Intense excitement of the 
people ; the way the news was received, 120-121. 

BUTLER, ANDREW P. (Senator from South Carohna)— He 
was sick of the word compromise, 288 ; he arouses 
Webster's indignation, 288-9. 

BUTLER, B. F.— A distinguished New York Lawyer, 92 ; a 
pet and protege of Van Buren's, 93 ; His consummate 
skill in managing Van Buren's canvass at the Free-soil 
Convention, 95 and following pages ; his victorious 
answer to Brinkerhoffs embarrassing question, 102. 

CALHOUN, JOHN C— His hostility to Van Buren, 91 ; 
opinions of Calhoun in the North, 147 ; his personal 
appearance, 148 ; his first debate (of the Session,) 149; 
his captivating style, 150 ; my change of feeling towards 
him, 152 ; a New Year's call on Calhoun 152 ; his lesson 
in phonography, 153 ; how reporters annoyed him, 153 ; 
the State Rights doctrine from Calhoun's lips, 154-158; 
origin of the State Rights doctrine, 158-168 ; Calhoun 
on the education of boys, 168-170 ; his opinion of Gen- 
eral Jackson. 171 ; his quarrel with General Jackson, and 
its result, 172-184 ; change of opinion in the South as 
to slavery caused by Calhoun's teaching, 183 ; his fasci- 
nation in personal intercourse, 185 ; Harriet Martineau's 
mistake, 180 ; Calhoun's kindness of heart and purity of 
soul, 187 ; how his last days were enriched and sweetened, 
188. Bennfit to me of my acquaintance with Calhoun 
and Jefferson Davis, 188-189. 

CAMBRELING, CHURCHILL C— One of the committee of 
Barnburner delegates to report to the New York meeting 
on the Baltimore Convention, 63. 



306 INDEX. 

CAMERON, SIMON —(Senator from Pennsylvania) —His per- 
sonal traits, and his style in debate, 132 ; how he brouiJ^ht 
on the first debate of the session and what it led to, 132 
-136 ; his friendliness to reporters, 136-7 ; his loyalty 
to friends, and his grit, 138 ; his collision with Senator 
Foote, 139 ; his warm but sometimes indiscreet friends, 
140-1. 

CASS, LEWIS— Nominated for the Presidency by the Demo- 
crats in 1848, 38; his character, 45; his betrayal of Van 
Buren, 46 ; defects as a candidate, 45-46 ; refusal to 
take part in the proceedings of the Senate after midnight 
of March 3, 1849, 273. 

CHARACTER — Facts and principles which give a basis for 
judging character and conduct, 192, 200, 201 ; the true 
basis of character, 284. 

CHASE, SALMON P.— President of the Free-soil National 
Convention of 1848, 99 ; his amendment of the Free-soil 
battle-cry, 103; feeling aroused by his anticipated election 
as U. S. Senator from Ohio, 107. 

CLAY, HENRY — The movement to prevent his nomination 
to the Presidency in 1848, the reason for it, and the man- 
agers of it, 41-77 ; some of Clay's distinguishing 
characteristics, 218 ; his phenomenal popularity, and the 
reasons for it, 218-221 ; his oratory, 222-224; the secret 
of his unique and resistless character, 224-226; his hon- 
esty, industry and simplicity, 226-228 ; how all this 
added to the power of his oratory, 228-9 ; one of his 
favorite anecdotes, 231-2 ; his chief fault in debate, and 
his collision with Calhoun, 233; the reconciliation of 
Clay and Calhoun. 285 ; the way in which Clay received 
a stranger who was introduced to him, 239-40 ; Tom 
Marshall's anecdote, 241 ; Clay's felicity in exordium, and 
a notable example of it, 244-49: the speech that gave 
him the Whig nomination to the Presidency in 1844, 249; 



INDEX. 307 

a Whig poet's touching lament over his defeat, 250 ; why 
Clay's enthusiastic admirers are reconciled to his defeat, 
250. 

CLAYTON, JOHN M.— (Senator from Delaware)— Introduces 
(with Benton) an anti-slavery petition from the inhab- 
itants of New Mexico, 49. 

CROCKETT, COLONEL DAVID— Killed at the capture of 
the Alamo, 113. 

DALLAS, GEORGE M.— Vice-President, 205. 

DAVIS, JEFFERSON— His gallantry at Buena Vista, 121, 

123 : his personal appearance in 1848; his ability and 
manner in debate, 123-4; his personal kindness to me, 

124 ; his kindness to everybody, 125 ; my surviving 
affection for him, 125 ; his powerful assistance in getting 
the bill creating the Department of the Interior passed by 
the Senate, 272. 

DISUNION— (See State Rights.) 

DODGE, HENRY (Senator from Wisconsin.) —Proposed as a 
Cfindidate for the Presidency at the Free-soil Convention, 
but declines, 97. 

DOUGLAS, STEPHEN A.— His rank as a debater, his voice 
and manner, 129; '* The Little Giant," but not a Httle 
man, 129; not a taint of snobbishness about him,~130; 
his winning manner with young men, and their fondness 
for him, 130-31 ; lasting influence of his manner, 131. 

EATON, GENERAL JOHN H.— General Jackson's friend 
and Secretary of War, 177 ; marries the widow Timber- 
lake, 177; singular consequences of the marriage, 178- 
180. 

EATON, MRS.-(wifeof General John H. Eaton.)— Her father 
a tavernkeeper in W^ashington, named O'Neil, 177 ; she 
marries Purser Timberlake, of the U. S. Navy, 177; is 
left a widow, 177; unpleasant gossip about her, 178; 



308 INDEX. 

marries General Eaton and becomes a Cabinet lady, 177 ; 
horror of the other Cabinet ladies, 178; they ostracize 
Mrs. Eaton, 178-9 ; society convulsed by an unexampled 
social war, 179 ; General Jackson enters the lists in favor 
of Mrs. Eaton, and is beaten by the ladies— his first and 
only defeat, 179 ; end of the social war and retirement 
of Mrs. Eaton, 179-80. 

EDUCATION — Alexander H. Stephens on boys in Georgia, 
144_146 ; Calhoun's theory of education, 168-9; the 
education of South Carolina boys contrasted by Calhoun 
with that of boys in the North, 169. 

ENVIRONMENT— (See Heredity). 

EWING, THOMAS— (the first Secretary of the Interior)— His 
opinion of Alexander H. Stephens's statement with regard 
to the mental requisitions of Georgia boys 14 years old, 
145-146. 

FANNIN, COLONEL— The massacre of him and his men, by 
the Mexicans, at Goliad, 114. 

FIELD, DAVID DUDLEY— His address at the great Barn- 
burner meeting in the City Hall Park, New York, in 
1848, 64. 

FILLMORE, MILLARD— Nominated for Vice-President by 
the Whig Convention of 1848, 80 ; was elected to the 
Vice-Presidency, 106. 

FOOTE, HENRY S. (Senator from Mississippi)— Threatens to 
hang Joan P. Hale if he should go to Mississippi, 128; 
Footers colHsion with Senator Cameron, 139; his intoler- 
able verbosity, 278; he is hissed and groaned at in the 
Senate, 279 ; his magniloquent response, 279 ; Webster 
sweeps him out of the debate, 281 282. 

FREE-SOIL CONVENTION, 93. 

FROG, AUGUSTUS— The winning way in which Thurlow 
Weed treated him and all his tribe, 53-54. 



INDEX. 309 

GOVERNMENT— Calhoun's theory of the difference between 
government and sovereignty, 154-155. 

GREELEY, HORACE— His excitement and personal appear- 
ance in the Whig National Convention of 1848, 77- his 
bitter disappointment at Clay's defeat, " I'm going home 
across New Jersey afoot and alone," 81-82; he hesitates 
to support General Taylor for the Presidency, 105: but 
his hatred of the Democrats brings him into the fight, 
106; is nominated for Congress and goes into the contest 
with all his energy, 106; his open letter to President 
Lincoln in 1862, 296. 

HALE, JOHN R — Nominated by Free-soilers for the Presi- 
dency in 1847, 44 ; his popularity at the Free-soil 
Convention in 1848, 95; his friends are out-generalled by 
the Van Buren men, 98; Hale is the first man elected U. 
S. Senator on a square anti slavery issue, 126; what a 
Methodist clergyman said about him, 126; Hale's courage, 
good-nature, wit and laziness, 127; his voice and style of 
speaking, 127; his eftcctive retort on Senator Foote, 128. 

HAMLIN, HANNIBAL— The youngest of the survivors of 
the Senators of 1848, 141 ; his honesty, integrity and 
geniality, 141. 

HASKELL— (of Tennessee) — Delegate to the Whig National 
Convention of 1848, 73. 

HAVEMEYER, WILLIAM F.— One of the committee of 
Barnburner delegates to report to the great meeting in 
the City Hall Park, 63. 

HEREDITY — One of the factors in the production of charac- 
ter, and environment the other factor, 192 ; heredity can 
be modified and directed but not elementally changed, 
192-3; tragic story illustrating this, 198; an attempt to 
change the heredity of a bear, and its terrible result, 
194-5; the doctrine of heredity and environment explains 
all. kinds of social enigmas, 195-6. 



310 INDEX. 

HOUSTON, GENERAL SAM.— The romance which encircled 
his name 40 years ago, and the brilliancj'^ of his early ca- 
reer, 111 ; elected Governor of Tennessee, marries a beau- 
tiful girl, makes a terrible discovery, resigns his office, 
and flees from civilization, 111-12; becomes a Cherokee 
chief: goes to Texas, defeats Santa Anna, is elected U. 
S. Senator, 112 ; his personal appearance and style of 
dress, 116 ; unfitted for civilization by his wild life, 117; 
whittling was his chief occupation in the Senate, 117; he 
was a tender-hearted old barbarian, and chivalrously de- 
voted to women, 117-18 ; was a lonely, melancholy man, 
118 ; a sincere lover of his country, 118. 

JACKSON, ANDREW— His high-handed conduct in Florida, 
175 ; the members of Monroe's Cabinet required to give 
written opinions on it, 176; Calhoun gives the only 
adverse opinion, yet Jackson gets the idea that Calhoun 
was the only friend he had in the Cabinet, 176; Jackson's 
gratitude to Calhoun, 176 ; Calhoun's adverse opinion 
brought to light, 176 ; the wrath of Old Hickory, 176 ; 
effect of the exposure on Calhoun's career, 182. 

KENNEDY, JOHN A.— One of the committee of Barnburner 
delegates, 63. 

KING, THOMAS BUTLER— Delegate from Georgia to the 
Whig National Convention of 1848, and one of the lead- 
ers in the movement to defeat Clay and nominate General 
Taylor, 41. 

LAWRENCE, ABBOT— Why he was not put on the Whig 

ticket as the candidate for Vice-President in 1848, 79 

-80. 
LINCOLN. ABRAHAM— Extract from his reply to Horace 

Greeley's open letter addressed to him in August, 1862, 

296. 



INDEX. 311 

MACLAY, ROBERT H.— One of the Committee of Barn- 
burner delegates, 63. 

McLEAN, JOHN— A Justice of the U. S. Supreme Court ; 
his interest in phonography ; a lecture on it in his parlors, 
143 ; an interesting incident, 144-146. 

McMICHAEL, MORTON— Editor of the Philadelphia North 
American ; Horace Greeley's visit to the North American 
office, after the nomination of General Taylor, 81 ; 
McMicbaers solicitude as to Mayor Swift's rhetoric, 
84. 

MANGUM, WILLIE P.— (Senator from North Carolina.)— 
His estimate of the weight of the word "combatant" 
when Webster hurled it at Senator Butler of South Caro- 
lina, 291. 

MARSHALL, THOMAS F. —His anecdote about Henry Clay, 
241. 

MARTINEAU, HARRIET— Her singular remark about Cal- 
houn's mind, 185. 

MORRIL, MR.— A delegate from New York to the Whig 
National Convention of 1848; he made a promise which 
secured the nomination of Fillmore as Vice-President, 
80. 

MURPHY, DENNIS F.— Now the leading reporter in the U. 
S. Senate ; a pupil of mine, 14 years old, in 1848 ; his 
brilliant exhibition of fast writing at Judge McLean's, 
143 ; what Calhoun said of him, 168. 

NEWSPAPERS -National Intelligencer, 33. Albany Evening 
Journal ; its relative influence in 1848, 51 ; New York 
city papers : The Sun, Herald, Tribune — when they were 
founded, and their circulation in 1848, 51-52 : The 
Times and the World not yet born, 51. 

OLD HUNKERS — One of the sections of the Democratic party 



312 IXBEX. 

in the State of Xew York, who were charged with the 

political assassination of Silas Wright, -iS. 
O'XEIL. PEGGY— (See Eaton, 3Ir3.) 
ORLEANS TERRITORY, XOW LOUISIAXA— Debate on its 

admission to the Union as a State, 159-160. 

POIXDEXTER. MR.— Calls Josiah Quincv to order, in the 
House of Representatives, for advocating disunion senti- 
ments, 160. 

POLK, JAMES K. — In attendance at the Capitol, on the last 
night of his term, to sign bills, 277 (Xote) ; he "goes 
home" after the hour of midnight, 277. 

POLK, TRUSTEX — Candidate for Governor of Missouri, 
against Benton ; Benton's characterization of him, 212. 

POXY EXPRESS, by which the news of the battle of Buena 
Vista was brought to the L'nited States and carried 
through the countrv, 121. 

QUIXCY, JOSIAH — Member of Congress from Massachuetts 
and originator of the doctrine of secession, 159-163, 

QL'IXTILIAX — His " Institutes of Oratory ; " principles 
therein laid down, 265. 

RAY'^IOXD, HEXRY' J.— The "reasoning" editor of the 
Xew York Courier and Enquirer in 1848 ; his hatred of 
Horace Greeley, 82. 

REPORTERS — The system of reporting in the U. S. Senate 
in 1848; pay of reporters ; 135-6. What Senator Cam- 
eron said of the reporters in the Senate, 137. 

RUSK, THOMAS S.— General Houston's colleague, 116. 

RUSSELL. MR. — His attempt to change the heredity of a 
bear, and the tragical result, 193-4. 

SAXTA AXXA — Defeated and captured by General Houston, 
112. 



INDEX. 313 

SCOTT, GEXERAL WIXFIELD— His popularity as a hero 
of the Mexican war, 42 ; a competitor for the Whig nom- 
ination to the Presidency in 1S4S, 72-73 ; used as a 
"dark horse" to delude friends of Henry Clay, 78. 

SECESSION.— (See State Rights). 

SEWARD, WILLIAM H.— Why the people did not readily 
perceive his intellectual greatness, 57 ; his wonderful 
sagacity ; how he cultivated the friendship of young 
men, 58. His use of religionists and reformers ; his mar- 
velous instinct as to when, how. where and to whom to 
speak on critical subjects ; his gift for formulating 
a battle-cry; his social qualities, o 9 ; he and Thurlow 
"Weed work together, 60 ; it is rumored that he will be 
influential with President Taylor ; the ill-feeling caused 
by that rumor, 108. 

SMITH, TRUMAN — One of the managers of the movement 
against Henry Clay in 1848, 41 ; his wily course in the 
Whig National Convention, 72; he sounds the knell of 
Clay. 76. 

SOUTHERN DOMINATION— Fixed policy of the South as to 
the admission of States into the Union, 34 : Martin Van 
Buren's chafing under Southern leadership, 90 ; what 
Webster said of it, 90. 

SOVEREIGNTY— (See Government). 

STATE RIGHTS— Calhoun's off-hand statement of the State 
Rights doctrine, 153-15S: the State Rights, secession, or 
disunion doctrine not a South Carolina, but a Massa- 
chusetts heresy, 158-167; Josiah Quincy introduces it 
into Congress, 159 ; Charles Francis Adams subsequently 
introduces it into the Massachusetts Legislature, 163. 

STEPHENS. ALEXANDER H.— (Representative from Geor- 
gia) — His course at a lecture on phonography in Judge 
McLean's parlors ; he says that he and other Georgia boys, 
at the age of 14, knew the Declaration of Independence 



314 INDEX. 

and the Constitutiou of the United States by heart, 144, 
145. 
SWIFT — (Mayor of Philadelphia) — He presides over the 
"Great Whig Ratification Meeting," 83; his whimsical 
rhetoric, 84. 

TAYLOR, GENERAL ZACHARY— Hero of the Mexican war; 
popular with the people but not with the politicians, 42 ; 
William H. Seward and Thurlow Weed see that his 
nomination is necessary to save the Whig party from 
defeat, 48-49; Taylor is nominated, 77; and elected, 107. 

TILDEN, SAMUEL J.— One of the committee of Barnburner 
delegates, 63. 

TRAVIS, COLONEL— Massacred at the capture of the Alamo, 
113. 

VAN BUREN, MARTIN— Van Buren a greater and better 
man than he was supposed to be, 86 ; he and Clay at a 
Wistar party in Philadelphia, 86 ; the two great rivals 
contrasted, 86-87; analysis of Van Buren's character 
88-89 ; his disrelish of Southera leadership, and his 
desire to avenge himself on General Cass and the Demo- 
cratic Party, 89-92 ; his letter to the Free-soil Convention, 
95 ; he is nominated for the Presidency by the Free-soil 
Convention and accepts, 103-104. 

WALKER, ISAAC P.— (Senator from Wisconsin)— Proposes 
an amendment, providing a government for California, to 
the Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation bill, 275, 

WALKER, ROBERT J.— (Secretary of the Treasury in Polk's 
Cabinet). — Drafts the bill establishing the Interior 
Department, 269. 

WEBB, JAMES WATSON— His excitement and appearance 
at the Whig National Convention of 1848, 77. 



ff 



4 



INDEX. 315 

WEBSTER, DANIEL— He is a competitor for the Whig nom- 
ination to the Presidency in 1848, 71-3; his characteriz- 
ation of Southern policy, 90 ; his dissatisfaction with the 
nomination of General Taylor ; finally makes a speech in 
favor of the Whig ticket, 109 ; his cold manner of receiv- 
ing strangers, 238. The godlike Daniel — his greatness, 
his personal appearance, 251-255 ; Webster's first appear- 
ance (of the session) in the Senate; the way he was 
received, 255-7; description in Paradise Lost that 
exactly fitted him, 258. Webster's mental make-up; the 
wonderful characteristics of his mind ; his power, his 
subtlety, his comprehensiveness, the clearness of his men- 
tal vision, his common sense, his eloquence, his oratory, 
258-297. Webster as a parliamentary leader ; the all- 
night debate on March 3, 1849 : exciting scenes ; 
AVebster's tact, power, mastery and triumph, 267-283. 
Other traits of Webster's character; his incomputable ser- 
vice to the country, 284 to 287. An occasion when 
Webster was enrag^ed : Senator Butler of South .Carolina 
rouses him up; his terrific burst of indignation, 287- 
292. His political despair, and the reason of it, 293 ; his 
passionate love of the Union ; the effect of his unequalled 
veneration upon his patriotism ; his supreme solicitude 
was to have the Union preserved; his touching and 
patriotic prayer answered, 293-300. 

WEED, THURLOW— Chief manager of the movement to 
defeat Clay and nominate General Taylor, in 1848, 41. 
The secret of Weed's political power — how he gained his 
power, and the way he kept it, 50-57. His consummately 
skillful management in getting General Taylor nominated, 
, 60-77 ; and in securing his election to the Presidency, 
85-107. 

WESTCOTT, J. D. JR. — (Senator from Florida)— He is 
rebuked by Colonel Benton, 204. 



316 INDEX. 

WILMOT, DAVID — (Representative from Pennsylvania) — In- 
troduces an amendment to the three-million bill, which 
becomes famous as the Wilmot Proviso, 36 ; the 
unexampled excitement caused by the "VVilmot Proviso, 
36-38. 

WRIGHT, SILAS— One of the most noted men of his time ; 
Van Buren's intimate friend ; his nlle*5^ed political assas- 
sination by the Old Hunkers, and the wrath of the Barn- 
burners thereat, 47-8. 



END. 



I 



WHAT LEALIITG HEWSPAPEES SAY ABOUT 



THE NEW YORK LEDGER. 



♦ ♦» 



[FROM THE NEW YORK MAIL AND EXPRESS.] 

Under the energetic and capabli? maniigcnient of Mr. Bonner's Sons, his 
great family paper, the New York Ledger, is lu.iliing long s^trides forward ; 
and brilliant as its past has been, the future hids fair to surpass it. Mr. 
Honner was indeed fortunate, not only in founding a great and l)eneficent 
literary enterprise, but in leaving descendents who are fully cajjable of car- 
rying out successfully even larger plans than the founder proposed. 

[FROM THE PHILADELPHIA LEDGER.] 

The New York Ledger has successfully maintained its popularity in 
despite of that rivalry which its own great merits provoked. Instead of a 
mere story i)ui)er, the Ledger is so broadened as to make it achronicle of the 
most sentient thought of the time ; it educates as well us entertains. It is 
none the less a story ])aper, and its stories are good stories ; neither is it any 
the less a paper which readers of the widest culture may read with profit and 
l)ieasure. 

[FROM THE BOSTON EVENING JOURNAL.] 

Robert Bonner's Sons are determined to bear the mantle which has fallen 
on their shoulders beyond any mark yet reached. As a popular story paper, 
the I^edger has made its chief reputation, but ithas much enhanced this by 
enlisting in its service the pens of men whose words have touched the varied 
keys of the human heart. 

[FROM THE BROOKLYN STANDARD UNION.] 

Robert Bonner's Sons have taken hold of the Ledger with an energy that- 
IB refreshing. The father worked eighti en l.ours a ciay to establish his pul)- 
iicalion ; the sons are working night and day to make a success that will 
eclipse all their fatlier's efforts; they have started in the right way; first, 
they are determined to keep np the Ledger's standard of purity, and, second, 
they are determined to employ the brightest pens to be found in the fields of 
whoksonie literature at home and abroad. 

[FROM THE CLEVELAND PLAINDEALER.] 

The contributors to the Ledger include the most notable writers in the 
field of history, science, itiography, i)oetry, litirature. and all that relates to 
the educational interests and the social and domestic well-being of the peo- 
ple. The Ledger is suited to the wants of all, old and young, and is dis- 
tinctively the family literary paper of the country. 



[FROM THE ALBANY EXPRESS.] 

Among the illustrated weekl}- papers, none has reached and maintained a 
higher standard of uniform excellence than the New York Ledger. The 
Ledger is firmly fixed in the confidence and the affections of the American 
people. 

[FROM THE NEW YORK SUN-] 

This week's ies.ie of that interesting and entertaining family paper, the 
New York Ledger, has been ihsued under a ntw foru). and presents a very 
pleasing appearance. Theie are several new featuies to the pai)er. The 
Ledger \n anew dress will naturally be a surprise, but the improvement is 
so marked that the surprise is very satisfactory. 

[FROM THE PITTSBURG POST.] 

The New York Ledger has never had a rival m its special field, and the 
enterprise and sagacity with which it is now conducted indicates that it does 
not in the future intend to invite one or put up with one. 

[FROM THE PHILADELPHIA EVENING CALL.] 

The New York Ledger has ever been, in the best sense of the name, a 
" Family Paper." It has been a welcome visitor in the best homes of the 
land. Never an impure word nor a suggestion that was not ennobling has 
appeared in its columns; clergymen and historians, as well as novelists and 
poets, have been its constant contributors. Robeit BonnerV Sons are i)rov- 
ing themselves worthy of their father, which, is saying mucli, and there can 
i^e no doubt that their success will be greater. 



&■ 



[FROM THE JERSEY CITY JOURNAL.] 

Robert Bonner's Sons have taken hold of the LedgerhkeoM journalists, 
and are following the excellent example set by their father. The Ledger 
has always been a clean, pure family paper, and has employed the best 
talent in the world. Mr. Bonner's sons propose to k» ep up this policy, ar.d 
every lover of pure literature must wish them success. 

[FROM THE SHERMAN (TEX.) COURIER.] 

The New York Ledger is the greatest of story papers. 

[FROM THE NEW YORK STAR.] 

A new era is marked in Robrrt Bonner's Sons success, the New York 
Ledger. A few weeks past its patrons were more than pleased with the 
announcement that Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett, at an enormous expense, 
'had been engaged to supply the Ledger with a serial. Close on to thi.s 
announcement its publishers give its" readers a delightful surpiise by an 
issue this week having little of the appearance of its former issu( s. The 
mechanical features are most important, for therein lies the great change. 

[FROM THE HARTFORD (CT) TIMES.] 

The New York Ledger of this week will be a surprise to its readers. The 
improvements add vastly to the results of what we have always regarded as 
the best, cleanest and most wholesome family story junpt r in the country. 

[FROM THE NORRISTOWN (PA.) WEEKLY HERALD.] 

The New York Ledger has always been the handsomest and best of the 
family story papers, and it is now more so than ever. 



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